Friendship Begins
by Mea1
Summary: ++Completed and revised! (I rewrote the last couple paragraphs)++ The untold story of friendship between Pippin and Legolas during the Fellowship of the Ring. R-rating for graphic violence in chapter five, nine, and a tad in ten and eleven.
1. December Morning

These characters are not my own. They belong to JRR Tolkien.

Elrond named the Fellowship of the Ring on a cold December morning. Before the company set on their journey a grand breakfast was laid out in the dining hall. By third servings only the Hobbits remained, storing as much food their bodies could stomach. Meals like this will be rare on the road of their taking. 

"I had a dream about the Shire," said Frodo, "Rosie was in it, too." 

Sam fumbled his fork clanging it on the plate.

"Rosie Cotton?" asked Pippin. "There ain't a prettier lass than she. Would you agree, Sam?" Embarrassed, Sam didn't bother to answer. "I would say Sam has Rosie on his mind more than he would like us to think." Pippin continued to press poor blushing Sam. Frodo and Merry chuckled in agreement.

"I do not." Sam replied looking down at his breakfast pretending not to care. 

Pippin laughed aloud and said "That's right, Sam Gamgee, I forgot your love for Bill the pony blinds you!" 

"The Gaffer will have something to say about that," Merry continued, in his best rendition of Sam's father, Hamfast Gamgee, "I reckon Bill wouldn't make a good wife, but he sure makes good pulling the plow!"

Both Merry and Frodo pounded the table, spilling the tea out of their mugs. Pippin held his stomach; it would burst if he did not wrap his arms around himself.

Uproarious laughter at Sam's expense could be heard throughout the halls in Rivendell. Though the breakfast room could not be seen where Elrond stood, their voices rang clearly in his perfect elven ears. "Remarkable, Hobbits are." Said Elrond to Gandalf. "They leave this day at dusk for Mordor, the Black Land, and their hearts are light, filled with laughter. I see now, by the by, Meriadoc and Peregrin are best suited in the completion of the Nine Walkers. Your road is dark, darker than I can foretell. Take comfort in this, Gandalf, for as noble, brave and loyal are the warriors that I bestow to the Company, it will be in the bleakest hour the strength of our Hobbits grow twice their height. May these remarkable creatures keep your hearts light as well."

"Welcome is any good news from your foresight, Lord Elrond." Gandalf said. Together they walked outside in the chilling December air sullen yet determined the long treacherous journey ends in favor of Middle Earth. Gandalf continued, "Collectively, it seems many years have I spent in Hobbiton in my comings and goings and I grow in desire of their simple way of life. It is for that reason I am in awe of Frodo's courage, Sam's devotion and the rambunctious flair Merry and Pippin take entering in to our endeavor. Young hobbits, they are, curious, adventurous, traits unlike their fellow hobbit folk. Their bloodline is rich with all of it."

Nigh the hour of departure, Pippin looked around this glorious place unknowing if he would ever see the beauty of Rivendell. His soul feared the worst and compelled all his senses to stare long without a blink and inhale a deeper breath. He stepped out of the Hall of Fire where the farewells were taken and given and fell in to single file line behind Gandalf sided with Aragorn. The next step Pippin took meant never turning back, before making that step he turned around and wondered if Elrond was right. By Elrond's council Peregrin Took should remain in Rivendell to return home to the Shire as a messenger of the Elves. Were it not for Gandalf's persistence Glorfindel, the Golden Haired, might have totaled the Nine. Pippin faced the way to Mordor, put down his foot to cross the imaginary boundary and left behind all doubt that he belonged with the Company. 

Near the front of line Pippin walked a stride or two behind the guides, Gandalf and Aragorn, no doubt planning the ideal route through the mountains. He might have misheard their exchanges but it seemed they were debating on the paths to take. Sam strolled behind speaking to Bill as if to have a conversation, answering questions that no one else heard the beast of burden ask. Then there was Boromir and then Gimli. 

Steps further in back of the dwarf, Frodo and Merry spoke fondly of Bilbo, piecing together songs of their childhood in hopes to share them during supper that night. The eyes and ears of Legolas were last with good reason. Connected to all that surrounded them, discerning the natural restlessness of the woods from the intentional sounds of danger, the elf marched in steady alert.

Slowing his pace, Pippin let by Sam, rolling his eyes as Sam continued his ridiculous conversation with Bill. " 'No sense in doing anything if you got no sense at all' my old Gaffer would say." His stride quickened in the opposite direction of their march as he passed stout Gimli, proud Boromir and the other two hobbits to finally match the footsteps of the elf. 

"Hullo!" Pippin said to Legolas, but he did not reply. "I am Peregrin son of Paladin, commonly called Pippin. I come from a long line of Tooks of the Shire." Little discouraged Pippin in continuing, slighting the elf's apparent disinterest, so on he conveyed, in great detail, the crossing bloodlines of Bagginses, Brandybucks and Tooks. "Closer in relation are Meriadoc Brandybuck and Frodo Baggins, first cousins, once removed. Myself and Merry are even closer, first cousins straight away." Hobbit lineage was somewhat of a bragging right and Pippin had just claim to family pride. His father, Paladin II was Thain of the Shire and older brother to Esmeralda, Merry's mother. Their father, Rorimac, or Old Rory as Pippin referred to him, was the Master of Buckland. 

The woods were thickening, once again he was reminded how their purpose traveled them far from the Shire. The chill of the cold and unknown swirled around his head, he pulled his hood up for comfort. "I am as out of place as troll in Hobbiton." At length Pippin waited, but again no response from Legolas. Pippin became irritated, "You do not acknowledge me and that is very rude."

"Mister Peregrin," he finally spoke, "there are as many differences between you and I as there are stars that light the sky." Pippin agreed. " I hear all things around me and my concentration to listen for those that will do us harm prevents me from speaking. I mean no ill-respect." Legolas spoke truthfully, confidently looking in to Pippin's gaze. 

"I have spoken much too long for the keen ears of elves. Tell me about yourself." Pippin looked up at Legolas.

"Ask me what you wish to know."

"The eyesight of the elves is famous for accuracy even in the greatest distance. I am small and so is my vision. What do you see that I cannot?" Pippin asked.

Legolas stopped and turned the Hobbit about-face back to Rivendell. He held his hand to shield the cloudy sun from his eyes and peered in to the city, with the other hand leaned his fist on his hip. Pippin looked at him and copied his stance. 

"What can you see, little one?" Hobbit eyes saw the graceful skyline of Rivendell's structures, magnificent against the lush wood and cascading waters. There was a bridge adjoining two houses. One had a tall, white pointy spire and at the very tip shone a finial as bright as gold. 

"Your eyes are stronger than I presumed." Legolas said much to Pippin's delight. "On that very bridge are two elven maids. One has long hair, like the color of yours, and white flowers are interlaced between her locks. The other has her hair braided and tied up with binds of silver. They are singing of our journey, wishing us well." 

Pippin exclaimed, "Your ears serve you well!" But Legolas omitted the last verse that the maidens sang,

**__**

Shall we never lay eyes on the Fellowship of the Ring again?


	2. Legolas and Pippin

These characters are not my own. They belong to JRR Tolkien.

Dusk settled as the weary group retired after traveling over ten hours breaking only for moments. Strider started the fire Sam cooked over to feed the others. Singing from Frodo and Merry accompanied the meal; some lyrics were nonsensical, sung for amusement sake, much of that was needed here tonight. The Grey Wizard and Aragorn did not join in their merriment but their absence was hardly noticed. The two were in earshot of the delightful songs and they spoke silently between them, smoking from their wooden pipes. 

It was not long when Aragorn bid all to retire. "Danger laden will our road be before us, though this night is less likely perilous. Let us rest early and begin at dawn."

In pile of leafy brush Merry made a bed for himself. Frodo and Sam copied his craft in a nook between large exposed roots holding down a towering tree. Propped up against the other side of the giant tree leaned Boromir hiding under his hood and Pippin was first on watch.

One by one, each of them fell fast asleep, nestled in between blankets and leaves. The last of the embers were a glow fading slowly as the night breeze blew past their campsite. Legolas remained awake, aside from Pippin. He patrolled the area, looking up in to the trees, gazing far in to the distance past anything Pippin could recognize with his night vision. The hobbit watched the elf dart from edge to edge of their clearing, peering, listening, and maybe even feeling any sense of disturbance. Assuredly, Legolas stepped close to the night watcher, "I am certain we are safe. Do not fear if you hear queer noises. It will only be the playfulness of nature scaring you."

Pippin nodded and eyed Legolas quick-stepping towards the road for one last look. 

Growling in his stomach kept him awake and rather distracted from his night watcher duty. Out of his pockets, in a firm clothed pouch, he stored a handful of winterberries taken during their great breakfast. He quickly chewed and swallowed them. Worthless are a hobbit's eyes and ears if he is hungry. Better now that his stomach is settled for him to continue watch, sharpness returned to all his senses. 

He heard a snapping sound followed by a flutter and a Nazgul shriek. He forgot not the sounds of the Black Riders as they escaped their grasp in Bree and when the Lord of the Nazgul stabbed Frodo on Weathertop. Now they are here! 

The pit of his stomach turned sideways and coldness fell over his body. He clutched the hilt of his sword, took in three gasps of breath and jumped to his heels. Before Pippin could alarm the others with a yelp, a large hand covered his mouth and shook him.

"You must remain calm!" the voice said. Pippin turned as the hand released him. He discovered Legolas with a mocking smile. "It was only a night owl perched on a weakening branch that snapped, he hurriedly flew away." Legolas explained. In disgust with himself Pippin shifted his eyes, lowering his head. 

"My stay in Rivendell rested me for a month of evenings. You desire much rest, young hobbit. Unravel your pack and make a good bed to sleep in. First watch will be mine tonight."

"No, Legolas, it will be mine." Pippin lifted his head and repositioned himself ready for guard.

"You find strength in fright. Or is it in pride?" Legolas teased as he drew closer to Pippin. "I require no sleep. 'Tis true what I said about my stay in Rivendell and I would like to keep company with you through your watch, should you bid it, of course."

"I should like your company very much, even if you remained silent." Pippin moved to share leaning space against the great tree with the elf. Both remained silent and alert. After an hour, Pippin's mind went back to the rolling grasses of the Shire. Abundance surrounded him, bright rays of sunlight, bottomless pitchers of ale, Old Toby pipeweed and food, warm, hot, comforting food, fried meats, baked breads, sautéed mushrooms and onions. The visions cloaked him like a blanket and he drifted into a dream, closing his eyes and slowing his breath. On his face he wore a smile and Legolas said to him in his mind, "Carry these images with you. Nothing on our journey ahead will give you joy save the sweet victory of our quest." 

Gandalf roused Pippin, the last to awake. "Took," Gandalf said to him, "Take your breakfast now or we leave you where you lie." Nothing more did Gandalf have to say to get up Pippin. He was lucky to grab what was left of Sam's cooking and he ate it while readying to set out for the day. 

Along side a cut edge of a steep valley, their march continued towards the dark lands of Mordor. The path was not troublesome nor was it wide. Small rock clusters in their path involved no difficulty in scaling but there were several uneven patches before them. The extra time uncalculated for worried Gandalf, they would not make their second night destination by sundown. Aragorn proposed they rest little tonight if it means securing the arrival to a safer haven for sleeping. "Rest is not rest if we cannot sleep under the comfort of concealment."

"Your words are wise and as a Ranger, you are an expert in this country's travel." Said Gandalf. "We will take your council."

Colder winds than yesterday blew on the Fellowship, a biting frost flew on the tips of the trailing air. Young Pippin pulled his cloak tighter and hid his hands for warmth. Amid the dropping temperatures and the news of a longer day's hike, both Merry and Pippin remained at ease and rather jovial, as it is the manner of hobbits. Their appreciation of nature was enriched by their journey as they found beauty in all things. Curiously, they spied the hibernating trees, naked in the leaf-less winter, the branches darkening in the cold and green shrubbery still alive in the dying season of winter.

"Oh, happy day!" cried Merry. "Look Pippin, there are winterberries!" He pointed to an evergreen bush speckled with the jewel-like nibbles of fruit. These pithy berries ranged in hues of reds, burgundy's and violets, though each of them were mildly tart and sweet, varied color did not vary in taste. They ran to the bush with their hungry hands outs. Sam heard their laughter from the front of the line and trotted back to join them. How could he have walked right past these delicious berries? The winterberry bushes anchored both sides of the trail and soon all the Nine members were berry picking for snacking now or saving for later. Pippin was crowded by the small mob, he looked for a way out and saw Legolas lonely harvesting a bush on the edge side, so he crawled between Boromir's ankles to join the elf.

There weren't enough berries to fill Pippin's stomach, which seemed infinite in space to the Company. With one hand he fed his mouth and with the other he filled his berry pouch for a later snacking. On the other side of the bush were more berries, bigger ones as they faced south. He lunged for them but they were farther out than his feet can remain on the edge.

"Pippin!" Legolas snapped and elves so rarely do, "Keep your feet beneath you! Starving or not, these berries will do little good if you fell in to the ravine."

He looked down at the thick, dry brambles far, far down below. "You are right, Master elf. I would lose my appetite for berries and all else should I fall." He quickly turned and shifted his weight to step closer the middle of road.

The ground crumbled, the sound of it echoed in Legolas' ears. Before Pippin could cry out, Legolas grabbed his pack to save him. The tiny hobbit teetered over the brink of a large fall, now it was the hands of an elf that would deliver him from this disaster. Still the hem of the valley was giving way, the dirt below Pippin's feet was dribbling pebble by pebble until it's foundation faltered bringing down the hobbit and the elf into the valley's pits down below.


	3. A Company of Two

These characters are not my own. They belong to JRR Tolkien.

The loose dirt rolled out from under Pippin's feet. His weight fell backward, then forward down the valley face. In the split second before the accident the elf knew he could not stop the hobbit's fall. In the last quarter of that final second, Legolas elected to fall with him. 

Legolas dug his heels in to the dirt, deftly sliding, keeping his natural balance. But the speed of Pippin's fall was faster and wildly uncontrollable. He began to roll downward like a small ball to the brambly thickets that were rapidly approaching. Legolas could hold on to his backpack no longer. He watched the screaming halfling hit the canyon's surface, twisting and turning in to odd shapes. The fall seemed to take an eternity before Pippin broke through the coiled, dead branches at the bottom. They were brittle and snapped easily but had sharp, pointy tips to scrape the skin. The racing speed tempered and Pippin ceased on his side. He kept his eyes closed, afraid to move. 

Bracing for the crash, Legolas held his straight position and compacted his arms to guard his chest and face. Just as Pippin discovered, Legolas flew past the woody blockade with ease, save only for a tear in his garb and scratches on his hands and ears. He concentrated more force in his heels to stop his high-speed momentum but the inertia was greater, his head spun round and his feet now pointed in the opposite direction. Quiet he lay for only a moment. As his hands moved off his face, he breathed in a sigh of relief and mentally examined each part of his body until assured all was intact. Like abruptly waking from a nightmare, Legolas sprang to his feet and with a focused glance he surveyed the area till he was positive no eminent danger hovered near them. 

The poor hobbit was only a few feet from him and Legolas hurried to his side. Pippin's left leg wound up in an awkward position—Legolas feared it broken. He called the hobbit's name gently, then louder and louder, but to no avail. "I have not the skill for mending, the duty is best left to Aragorn." Legolas shook Pippin's body, careful not to aggravate further injury. Pippin responded to the jolt and widely opened his eyes to the elf. He groaned loudly as he tried to recover the memory of his fall.

"Are there any breaks in your bones?"

Pippin then realized the figure above him was Legolas. "No. I feel only a soreness throughout."

"Carefully, stand to your feet." Legolas said trying to support him. Unsure of his footing, Pippin hobbled up and tested his weight on either foot. The left ankle throbbed with a pinching pain but it was not unbearable or un-walkable. Around his ankle a swelling began to form. Though Legolas remedied few ailments in his years as a warrior, he recognized the seriousness of Pippin's injury if it was not properly cared for and rested. 

"I can walk. However, to climb back up to road I cannot do alone. I am afraid to, truthfully. One ride down that mountain is more than my liking." 

"The face of valley is a landslide of loose gravel and soft dirt, unfit to traverse for a well-footed hobbit or elf alike." Legolas eyed the trail marks they left on the valley side and then turned to face Pippin again. "You will sit on the stump there, it is not judicious too keep full weight on a sore ankle. When we are not walking, you must sit and take ease." He assisted Pippin to the tree stump.

"Legolas, do you know where we are? I am a fool for those berries! Curse my craving for them!"

The elf parted as he ranted. Though Legolas heard him, he had no answer yet. At the foot of the base, he looked up past the thickets and saw there was a canopy of winter branches that covered him from view up top. Legolas' sharpness could see the entire Company peering down searching for their fallen friends, but the dead thick foliage spoiled their view. Only Legolas had them in sight and his ears sensed the details of their conversation.

At the height of great trees above the Company of Seven stared long in to the valley depth. Gimli was the first to see the commotion and hollered the others to take urgent notice. At the end of the drawf's cries their eyes scattered around attempting to gather the events taking place. They saw Pippin take his final slip in to descent and then watched Legolas disappear with him. Frodo ran to the edge first and witnessed his dear friend tumble like a head of lettuce. Speechless and helpless he stood while the falling cries rang in his ears.

"It does not look it, but the thickets below are weak and easy to break, compared to the eaves that are still strong on these trees." Aragorn tried to comfort them all. "Our friends will suffer only lucky bruises and scratches from the wood."

"They have fallen so far and I cannot see them!" Merry exclaimed. "Pippin is the smallest of us all and he is sure to have broken his bones if not, far worse! And how will meet them?"

Hefty in his voice, Aragorn called out down below, "Legolas! Legolas! Give us a sign that you and Pippin are well to walk."

From his pack Legolas pulled a map he retrieved from Rivendell. He tore a piece and skewered one of his arrows through it. Drawn tautly, he readied a mark high up on the edge from where they fell and let his arrow fly, striking the tree trunk within inches of Boromir.

"Ah, deadly accurate is his eyesight." Aragorn said with a half smile.

"Indeed!" Boromir freed the arrow and took the map piece into his hands. _"Eregion?_ He must want us to meet him there. What place is this?"

"In our speech it is named Hollin." Replied Gandalf.

"How long must we travel less dear Pippin and Legolas?" Frodo cried. 

"In nearly a fortnight we shall arrive in Hollin, Frodo." Aragorn said. "Save any injuries, Legolas and Pippin will arrive days later. We have only to wait for them there. No more must we linger, time is our enemy this day."

Over the edge Merry searched again for his friend but he saw no living creature. He was afraid for Pippin and began to miss him dearly. Down at his feet was Pippin's snack pouch, bursting so with winterberries it could not close. "All of it was in vain, he did not get his sweet prize." 

Gandalf went to Merry and in a kindly voice said, "Relieve your woes. Legolas is with him." 

But he could not. Only if he were side by side with Pippin would he be free of his worries. Together, he believed hobbits have mighty strength and will, though it is unlikely other hobbits share in this like. They are more ought not to think of possible adversity, it is plainly not in the hobbit character. Merry rejoined the group and walked on. He thought more of the differences between he and the hobbits left in the Shire. Frodo, Sam, Pippin and himself were no longer country, simple-minded, hobbit-folk. Their minds were opening and their spirits released to the outside world. As he stayed on this rational track, the fear he had for Pippin quietly subsided. "Gandalf is right. I've no need to worry so." He said to himself.

Pippin was looking pitiful when Legolas returned to him. The elf instructed to set off and continue in the direction of their travel. "The greatest of my abilities is not physical strength and so I cannot carry you at length but I will hold your pack. That should relieve you of some burden."

Pippin outpoured his frustration and self-pity on to Legolas, "I have slowed the quest further and hurt myself in the meantime. My dear Frodo is disappointed and Gandalf… Gandalf must be furious! I tell you, he will cast me into a smaller body so that I may be kept in his pocket and out of the way. And I will welcome it! I know you must feel the same." 

But his self-torment would be better to fall on deaf ears; Legolas wanted none of it. "You are exasperating! Do not make this more irritating and strenuous than it has become. Remember, Fellowship partner, our purpose is long from over, there are many more adversities waylaid ahead of us." Legolas did not say it aloud, but strong was the sensation future dangers that would befall the Company would be the doing of Pippin's disregard. 

Legolas helped Pippin down. "Light in this valley will be scarce and night will fall rapidly. Hollin is several days south. Our reunion is there." 


	4. Traveling

These characters and places are not my own, they belong to JRR Tolkien.

They could not travel long their first day. After a couple of hours Pippin's swelling grew fat and pink as a pig. As more hours went by he was hardly moving forward. Far behind the elf he lagged, taking tiny steps attempting to lessen the hurt. 

Looking back at the gap created between him and Pippin's hobbling pace, Legolas deemed they were due their rest for the night. He trotted back to the hobbit, "Let us stop here and make ready for the night. We shall eat and dream away this dreadful day."

But Pippin urged they continue (he felt very guilty), Legolas said, "Nay, we will not travel on, but rest. By all accounts it is perfect, thick, woody coverage overhead and there lay a stream to fill our bags with water." 

Suddenly, he caught an idea. He lifted the hobbit in his arms, carried him to the nearby trickle of water and sat him on a large stone at the foot of the stream. Legolas dipped his hand in the clear water. "As I expected, freezing like newly melted snow. Submerge your ankle into it and keep there for as long as you can bare. Blood in the swelling thins and your pain will be relieved. "

The tips of the hobbit's toes were first to touch the icy stream and he paused before he continued again. Initially, the iciness felt as if a thousand tiny knives were stabbing his poor hobbit foot. Then came a numbness, less painful but equally discomforting. He could withstand the experience no further and lifted his foot from the chilled waters.

Legolas handled a drawstring bag, opened it and withdrew it's contents folded in linen cloth, hiding something between it's layers. The elf uncovered little leaf wrapped packages, clearly a dozen of them. In one arm, Legolas balanced the goodies and tore half the linen with his other hand and mouth. One of leaf packages tumbled to the ground and opening up the surprise inside. Pippin's eyes widen and his mouth watered for the treats. "Cake! Golden cakes! And you hold plenty to share. Bless you all the more!" he exclaimed. "My hunger and ankle are healed!"

"Pay no mind to these. They are reserved for a more desperate time, not the present." Refolded in to the torn cloth, the little cakes disappeared inside the elf's velvet bag. 

"You play a wicked game, Master Elf." Pippin muttered with a broken heart.

Into smaller strips Legolas ripped the remaining linen and with them tightly contained the swelling around Pip's ankle. They returned to their campsite where Legolas built a small fire. He continued his aid to the hobbit by wrapping a blanket around his feet to chase the chill away. "Stay your feet close to the blaze's warmth, but do not shift too close lest you warm your feet by setting them on fire."

It wasn't until Pippin's snoring did Legolas wait to search their area yonder. Scarcely the presence of the others in the Company could be felt, they were very far from where he stood. Perking his ears to hear past the silence, a sound reached him and his mind set a fright – wolves.

***

Six days now the Company of Two traveled through the valley, towards the crossroad of the canyon's end and the high road, to the land of Hollin*. Each night, the howl of wolves can be heard to the ears of elves. Far off they were yet to be picked up by the hobbit's senses. But Pippin had other worries. His stomach pained with hunger and though the bloated mass around his foot lulled, it was weak and hurt when the walks were long. 

Pippin learned peculiar Elven traits while on his lonely journey with Legolas. Remarkably clean stayed the elf while dirt and grime flew all round Pippin, fastening to his face, hands and tangling nature's refuse atop his curled hair. Together they walked the same steps and each day, at the close of their hike, Pippin was sordid, and conversely Legolas seemed to shine, bathed in a healthy glow. During rests in their daily journey and before they took their final rest at night, the elf refreshed himself with water on his face and neck. However, even if Pippin were to take five baths, he would not look as clean as Legolas kept himself.

Reflecting back to the memory on their third night, when they readied for sleep, Pippin sang one of Bilbo's old tunes he favored so, and Legolas enjoyed listening. Pippin called it a bed-song* for it ended with 'And then to bed! And then to bed!*' though truthfully, it was a walking some. At the final verse, it was not very long, he glanced over to Legolas who was motionless looking in to a dream. At length Pippin watched him, waiting for him to fall out of reverie. Had his musings sent the elf in to an irreversible trance? The stun of his bewitching gift compared little to the phenomenon he was truly witnessing. Each night when they slept, weariness was first to take over the hobbit before it cast slumber on the elf. This night, Pippin would be last to sleep and saw the elf slept with his eyes open! Unheard of and unnerving this was to a hobbit! 

Legolas once said to Pippin, " …there are as many differences between you and I as there are stars that light the sky." And the biggest difference Pippin was a hobbit's knack for talking story of friends, family and their simple, hobbit comforts. Legolas lost count of the numerous times Pippin spoke of his misadventures with Merry and Frodo. He detailed time and time again the family branches of Tooks and Brandybucks, referencing the birth features from these great families bequeathed to him and his older siblings, Pearl, Pimpernel and Pervinca. 

The elf was not always silent, he told tales of his elder elven folk, fair yet heavy hearted, and of distant lands over sea. Most tunes he worded in the Common Speech but Pippin was delighted to hear his Sindarin tongue unravel stories of old. But nowhere did Legolas speak of his own kindred. Pippin knew nothing of the warrior elf's mother, father, sisters and brothers; perhaps he was orphaned like Frodo and taken in by a kindly uncle. He was not curious to know, but rather took note they were never spoken of.

These wondering thoughts kept Pippin silent while they walked this last hour. Legolas called them to break. They drank from their water skins and gnawed on handfuls of dried meats. Upon the command of the elf, Pippin was put on rations until they returned to the company who carried the bulk of their food supply. The woods were bare; winterberries did not plant on the valley floor. Should Pippin remain to eat in the manner he was accustomed, they would starve by day's end. The little cakes he glimpsed in the velvet bag haunted his mind and he accused the elf of selfishness. Legolas plainly ignored him.

Pippin took another gash at his meat and chewed hard. "I miss Frodo, Merry and Sam. How is their half of the adventure unfolding, I wonder." As usual, Pippin spoke while his company listened. He was not rightly sure if Legolas' ears dedicated any attention to him, but no hints were given to keep quiet and he found comfort in rattling on and on as he did. "I think of Bill, too."

Legolas threw Pippin a strange look, communicating silently the oddness of Bill's mention.

The hobbit retorted his gaze with a harsher one. "What is it?" he added.

"Were the choice mine, a grander Rivendell horse would carry our loads and Bill kept behind. I—"

Pippin interjected loudly, "Your opinion hardly matters. Had you seen him in Bree, poor, wretched, nobbly-kneed, he was rejuvenated when we took him to the city of elves, growing stronger with every blade of Rivendell grass he et. Bill is dedicated to us hobbits. Samwise Gamgee would ram you flat on your back if he heard such an utter. No elf-pony could love and serve us as our beloved Bill! Blast my foot or I would ram you myself!" He folded his arms in a huff.

To which Legolas calmly replied, "Your fiery tongue also speaks you are rested plenty. A wearisome creature has no strength to roar as you do. You are well to start our march again." Legolas shifted to his feet and held out his hand to assist Pippin on his. "Come now, I meant no jest of it. On your feet Mr. Peregrin."

***

Night fell over them as the last of the cloudy light dipped under the horizon. Legolas scouted an alcove carved in the rocks against the valley face. Flat and comfortable was the bedroom space nature seemed to prepare for them. A large flat boulder roofed above, supported by three walls of stone. Boughs of evergreen bushes were laid down to comfort the earthy floor. At the open entrance was an ideal spot for a hearth, but there would be no fire to light, it would alert the wolves of their camp. 

"Then we will freeze in the night." Pippin miserably said.

"You may sleep while the chill freezes your blood or have your head chopped by the fangs of a wild dog. I will choose for us—there will be no fire tonight. Stay on your guard, they are coming. Our best protection is to go unnoticed." Before the dawn would arise the pack of wolves would be at their feet. Legolas could hear them traveling, panting and sniffing, the wolves tracked their scent and began to hunt.

Quivering and frightened, Pippin chewed his supper without uttering a sound. Legolas was on full alert, hardly taking food or drink. He kept quiet and watchful through the dark trees. Every movement the elf made Pippin startled himself, ready to spring in to action, whatever that maybe, probably to run. But where? Wolves were faster than horses and could bring down a herd of them during a racing stampede. Hobbit legs are inefficient to run while being chased and his injury would mark him easier to seize. The thoughts pounded his heartbeats faster than he could ever run, what outcome can be made from this? Pippin could determine only the worst.

Pippin's imaginings faded and the reality could be heard in Legolas' ears. "Pippin, we must stay atop our shelter to look down onto them. Take your sword and stay close to me." 

Armed with his quiver and knives, Legolas exited their shelter and called again after the hobbit. Pippin met the elf, after hesitating only a little, on top of the stone. Legolas drew an arrow and equipped his quiver, pulling tightly he stayed level aim at the beasts racing towards them. The tiny hobbit unsheathed his sword, shifting his weight nervously, half way hiding behind the elf. As the wolves came in to his view he wished he never laid eyes on those cursed winterberries.

* Denotes Tolkien references.

++ Thank you all for your reviews, I was so happy to read them! I'm glad you are enjoying this little story and hope you will continue to read on. Tindomerel: Thanks for the idea, I love it! I hope to make an adaptation in the next chapter. ++


	5. The Wolves

These characters and places are not my own, they belong to JRR Tolkien.

Pants of the beasts could well be heard, though Pippin's eyes did not see them. The first arrow was released and sailed to a dark spot where a wolf was running, piercing deep above it's shoulder blade and stopping him dead. Six more were in view, hustling through the chilled wind to devour their prey. Legolas offed four of them in sequential order in seconds. On the right and on the left, the remaining wolves scaled the boulders to attack from either side. With his left hand, Legolas unsheathed his deadly knife and came up against the mangy dog striking from the right. Swiftly and with great force, he jabbed the hind of the wolf. As it howled in terror, Legolas brought round his white blade slitting it's throat, death was in an instant. At close range bows and arrows are useless, proving his knives the better weapon. Blood and flesh fall easily from the elf's blade, it remained clean as it returned to it's casing. 

Again, more wolves dashed through the wood towards the pair, racing in their lethal fashion. "These animals travel in close packs of six or eight. Surely, the work of the Enemy is at hand!" Legolas thought aloud. He quickly spun back to Pippin who was on his back, fending the beast that pounced atop him, recklessly wielding his sword. The knife was unsheathed again. It's length thrust through the wolf's skull with a crack, collapsing flat on the hobbit with a dull thump. Legolas kicked off the dead thing as Pippin gasped for air.

Grabbing his arm, Legolas jerked Pippin to his feet and quickly instructed, "Our battle is only beginning. I dare not say how many we have yet to fend, so as not to discourage you. Swallow your fear or never again see the sunlight of dawn! Maintain your balance by bending your knees a slight and forwarding your weight to your toes. Take short swings; it is a great opportunity for the enemy to strike if your swing is wide, it leaves your body unguarded."

Legolas said it all too fast--Pippin hardly made sense of it. But somehow his body knew and followed the lesson to the letter. Pippin could not count them, but he was certain the elf targeted, at the least, six wolves consecutively, all shot through their beating chests, sending them whimpering or to their death. Legolas cast down his bow, drawing out his knives. "I have exhausted my ammunition, I cannot keep them at bay." He looked sharply at Pippin, "We must let them come and face them square."

Four sets of eyes ran to them, jumping up the boulders they stood upon. Many years of warfare prepared the wise elf for quarrels such as these. As he twisted in all directions, Legolas stabbed and kicked the beasts it seemed, with little effort. A previously injured wolf made it's way up to the rock, an arrow wavered from its shoulder blade. Fiercely he barked at Pippin and lunged for his torso. But Pippin did not fall back and commanded himself to lean forward and block his body with his steel blade. He tilted the angle of his sword holding the hilt with both hands and swiftly swung down, cutting loose the insides of the animal. Yet more were coming and Pippin had to wait to congratulate himself. 

The attack was waning in favor of the Company of Two. Four more did Pippin slay by his sword and twice that and more was Legolas' score. The end was near, but one remained. Legolas faced the last of the wolves, cunning, as he was strong, the lone wolf surveyed his foe, growling, exhibiting his fangs. In both hands the elven knives stayed ready, he lurched forward in defense, calculating the final move. They rallied on for a long length but neither tired or faltered. In circles they continued, warrior against warrior, skilled so not to allow giving the upper hand, experts to avoid injury, yet failing to afflict a blow to end it all. A deep, heavy rasp entered the elf's mind and it said to him, "You will not defeat me. My eye is searching and the One will be found."

The words were not audible to Pippin, but deep inside his bones, he felt evil flow thickly in the air, liken to a dense fog. Pippin scurried for an answer and he found the last arrow lodged in the conquered wolf of his killing. Taking the bow of Legolas he mounted the bloody arrow and aimed, as Legolas did, for the heart of the beast. The bow snapped and cut the inexperienced hand of the novice, sending the bow dreadfully off course and striking down the elf.

The kingly wolf snarled with laughter. Hunched down, eyes fixed on the lowly hobbit, he spread apart his deadly fangs ready to gouge Pippin's appetizing, little head. He leaped into the air and was cut lengthwise by the white edge of steel extended by the downed archer. Legolas deftly maneuvered the wolf's plummet to earth, rolling to his side and on to his back. The great shape of the large animal disintegrated into the nothingness of black dust as the other evil corpses promptly followed suit. The wind picked up their granulated remains and swept south, towards Mordor, leaving no sign of their enemy. Indeed, he was the last and Pippin and Legolas were safe to retire. 


	6. Legolas

++ I must credit Elrilium (sp?) for inspiring part of this chapter. Her story of Legolas' adventure before he rode to Rivendell was one of the first fan fiction pieces I read and fell in love with. I can no longer find her story but hope one day I'll get to read her conclusions. Tindomerel: You can read my mind! ++

These characters and places are not my own, they belong to JRR Tolkien.

"I cannot say that I am pleased nor I do think it wise what you attempted." Legolas arose, clutching the wound on his arm. "But, I am grateful to you." He said kindly and bowed low before Pippin.

"You are not dead! I believed your end was at my hand. If it were true, the Brandywine doesn't hold enough water to wash away my guiltiness." Pippin stood up in relief, the weight in his heart lifted and he silently rejoiced.

Legolas examined his own injury, "Your stray arrowhead--I assume your plan was to strike the wolf--," he said wryly, "it cut away my flesh, but the wound is small, relative to lodging in to my skin. I heal quickly and no mark will remain to remind me of your foolish underachievement." The kindly tone addressing Pippin's bravery sorely turned south. Legolas was grateful indeed, as he said, but to touch the bow of Legolas Greenleaf is an atrocity regardless of circumstance, lest he be dead and the weapon picked up by a stranger's hands to be placed with the elf for his burial. Which at this moment Pippin daydreamed of his stayed hand, imagining instead the king wolf eating the elf right up like a juicy steak.

"My hand burns like fire." Pippin extended his arm for inspection. His steady hand was scraped as the arrow flung from the bow. Legolas took Pip's hand in his and squinted in the moonlight. "I will spare you my wrath for senselessly handling this fine instrument. Your minor scrape serves you as a lesson."

"Hobbits are known to be good with the bow and arrow, although masters archers as elves we are not." Remarked Pippin pulling his hand back, hurtful of the elf's backhanded comments. "All's I need is a few more practices." 

Legolas smirked and Pippin wondered if the elf was entertaining the idea, but the closest Pip got to an archery lesson that night was assisting Legolas retrieving arrows that felled the Enemy. The wounded and his assailant slipped beneath the boulders of their little cave for the length of that victorious night. Each were restless from the battle fought and sleep was far off their agenda. A fire produced light and warmth in their cave and they huddled around its glow. To Pippin's delight, Legolas pulled open the velvet bag, handing one of the leaf packages to the eager growing hobbit. "At long last!" Pippin's eyes widen. As he hurried to unwrap it, Legolas described the value of the gold cakes to him. The feel of them reminded Pip of a biscuit, only flatter in girth and lightly crisper.

"What you have desired long since are called _lembas_. Tasty as they are full of the essentials needed to recover when the body and mind are weary. The ache in your hand will soon be comforted."

Pippin took his first bite quickly and swallowed it down. The affects of their healing potential activated instantaneously and he shoved what was left into his mouth. A repulsive look riddled Legolas' fair face as Pippin forced down the last of the cake. "Hobbits have an extraordinary lust for food." He said with a tisk. "The enjoyment is equal to, if not improved by, slowly savoring them."

Morsels mixed around his mouth as Pippin responded in an effort to further the elf's disgust, "Your selfish restriction longed my urge, as you can see. I am not to blame."

Suddenly, Legolas' impression reared serious, "The last of our food is depleted, these cakes are our sole supply until we are reunited with our company. Our speed yields another five days walk at the least." When Legolas was sure he caught the attention of the Hobbit, he added a bit of comfort, "The _lembas _will sustain our health till we reach Hollin, fear not." 

Slowly he chewed the last of it. Starvation never entered a hobbit's thoughts, only in expressing his hunger, but 'I'm starving' as opposed to dying of starvation are entirely different stages. He sunk in to the deepest of disparities he thought he would ever face. For the first time, Pippin awoke the to reality of their danger and he became frightened and angry with himself. "An adventure this turned out to be indeed." He muttered. But before he delved to waddle in a pool of self-pity, he eyed Legolas gazing in to the fire, motionless, though he was not "sleeping". In the sunset light of their fire, Pippin looked on Legolas with a new respect, recalling all the elf sacrificed for their survival on this detour of sorts.

"How do you go on knowing the dangers laid before us?" asked Pippin, hoping to be rekindled.

"Elves care little for the ways of other races, though there are the exceptions. Great leaders, Gandalf the Grey and Aragorn son of Arathorn, are the head of our quest. To the ends of our world would I follow them and to their intuitions I am doubtless, they display immeasurable courage and compassion."

Pippin nodded in agreement. Gandalf frequented the Shire and was old chums with Bilbo, he knew Gandalf many years, one of the few strangers welcomed by the Hobbits in their tiny land. Though most hobbits turned their nose at such a preposterous relationship, Pippin found it charming and felt a sense of pride for knowing Gandalf more than a mere acquaintance. 

A matter of short months it has been since the four adventurers entered Bree to stumble in to the Ranger named Strider, a proven servant to Frodo, and so to Strider his loyalties were equaled. It was clear to Pippin why Gandalf was involved, why Strider, or recently discovered, Aragorn, abetted Frodo and his quest to destroy the One Ring, but the question he begged to ask Legolas was why, or how, he was dealt in to the mixture. For that matter, why Boromir and Gimli, too. Since they were not in range to speak for themselves, Pippin asked his curious question of the elf to which the he remained silent in thought of his answer.

Finally he replied, "I cannot account Lord Elrond's reasons for electing me to represent the race of elves in our Company, but the events that occurred bringing me to hearken at the council is insight I can administer." The pointed ears on the either side Pippin's head perked up at the mention of an elven tale, though a ballad it was far from, perhaps one day he would tell it to another generation of hobbits aside a camp fire and construct a tune. He sat still, eager to listen.

Legolas began, "On a cloudy summer day, a prisoner arrived at our Elven Kingdom of Northern Mirkwood, welcomed by my father, King Thranduil. It was agreed the creature shall remain imprisoned within our realm of the Great Wood. Vile and disgusting was this creature called Gollum, his skin blackened ash, like soot, eyes illuminous in the palest light and he hissed words like an evil snake. The cries let out of this tiny loathsome thing were unbearable, my ears ache at the memory of them. 

"I commanded the Wood Army of the King, our duties resided within the boundaries of our city as Mirkwood shrank in safe havens from the evils billowing and populating around its borders. Under our watch Gollum came and it was told he endured excruciating tortures of Mordor and was previously poisoned by a greater, unspeakable evil that bound and changed him into the wickedness that now plagues his soul. Gandalf pleaded with us to be kind, Gollum's heart could still find light and that he should be nurtured in to rediscovering this path.

"In the caves of our dungeons, placed under lock and guard, he muttered in nonsense, hissing a baneful plot to recover what was once his own. At my bidding, we took him through the woods to a lone tree and there he climbed to be one with the loveliness of nature and set is heart aright. It became a welcome treat rewarding good behavior he performed and Gollum praised his jailers, hissing over compensating laudation.

"On the last occasion, Gollum climbed to the top of the lonely tree and remained among the high branches into the late hours of the day. His guards demanded his return, but he out rightly dismissed my men. I was summoned to succor the simple task that had gone a wry and for several more hours I stood under him as he hissed and spat. Ere the end of my patience, yet again a call for my need arrived. Outside forces of Orcs crossed over the Mountains of Mirkwood and through villages inhabiting the heart of the Wood. Though our army was not called until the Orcs invaded our land, our response to intercept them hurried our step and we were secure in defeating them. Two guards I bid to remain at Gollum's post and I led my warriors southeast where we would take arms with the marauding Orcs. Elves of a separate order of the army were already at hand, our arrival was not ill-timed, the Orcs discovered our numbers growing and it aided in pushing them farther south to their retreat. No light shone on our battle, long it lasted to the darkest hours before the dawning. 

"Upon return to the post I left behind, Gollum and the two elves standing his watch were not to be found. Gollum escaped among the raucous and I feared the guards dispatched for they had disappeared with him. A heavy weight of distraught came over me like a dark shadow, one elf I held very dear and now we shall never cross paths. 

"My body weary from battle, my heart ached with immense sadness yet my duty to the king deferred any rest. The road to his doorstep seemed to stretch miles away though my horse sped mightily through the forest from beginning to end. My tidings were ill as the King guessed by the weight on my brow. He bored down on me with great disappointment and sadness, I stood silent, hardly capable of breath. He commanded me to Rivendell to deliver my message to Lord Elrond who would pass on the knowledge to those it was of greater importance and secrecy: Gandalf and Aragorn. I arrived timely for the Council of Elrond and from my lips they heard the news of Gollum and our vain attempts to recover him. Not one sigh or damaging word of my people was uttered among them during my presence at the council, an example of their forbearance. 

"Destroying the One Ring translates to the destruction of the evil filling my land. For the King and all of my kindred I seek to restore Mirkwood's true glory." Legolas' tale ended with these words and no more was spoken of it. The elf's heart exposed, burdened with great sorrow and regret, Pippin fixed his stare on the fair elf who sat quietly with no more to say. All but crackling and snapping sounds from the fire were heard, at length the two companions exchanged nothing else. Pippin's trodden voice spoke over the silence, "No doubt in me exists that you will lead us safely to Hollin and to our friends; I am sure of it as the day comes."

An appreciative glance and humble smile was passed to Pippin for his kind, kind words and once again silence fell on their camp. Comforting images came to Pippin, calling him to dream as he hunched over in pleasant sleep. Legolas took notice, laid him to his side and fluffed Pippin's blanket to cover him. Legolas returned to his seat by the fire and stared long into it, entranced by the dance of the flame. Much more wood he added for fuel, keeping the flames burning well into the morning, his only company during these last dark hours. A movement in the leaves outside rustled in his ears and he broke the concentrated he dedicated to his fire. With quiver at hand, he crawled to the rock's end and peered through the foliage ahead. White rays of sunlight rose from the east, sharpening the elf's gaze, he carefully watched as a dozen creatures stepped closer to their camp, he could not yet discern their identity, they were apt to disguise in the woods. Before he leaped out to gain post above their cave, he watched the rise and fall of Pippin's peaceful breath then headed out of the cave to face the strangers alone.


	7. A Moments Rest

These characters and places are not my own, they belong to JRR Tolkien.

Slipping up to the top of the cave, Legolas honed his eyesight toward to the creatures making their path closer in a stealthy and noiseless fashion. Though keen elven ears heard it like a dying a breeze rustling through the trees. A wave of relief came over him, he knew then who these strangers were and malice was not their due course. Legolas stood up straight revealing his presence, he called out to them in an Elvish tongue. Out of the camouflage the leader appeared, like opening a door and suddenly he was there. Running to greet them, Legolas noticed the group was of High-Elven, twelve in all. His Elvish words had no meaning to them unless these fair elves were also schooled in Sindar. Legolas himself knew very little of the High Elves' dialect, patterning only after what little his father knew when he addressed fair elf visitors from beyond his region.

In Westron speech he said, "A large company traveling far from home, what lucky chance has this bestowed? I am Legolas of Northern Mirkwood and I bid you a very fine morning." He bowed before them.

"The son of Thranduil, king to the Elves of Northern Mirkwood. The honor is ours." Upon the lead of the elf's example his company bowed in return. "My name is Gildor of the House of Finrond. We have traveled a great distance in the night risking a run in with the wolves. Several beasts were on the prowl but I do not sense them, it is as if they have vanished from the earth."

"By quiver and blade were the wolves defeated and cast back to the Black Land in a shapeless form." In full detail Legolas described the quarrel between the evil beasts and the hobbit and the elf. His audience remained captivated in the tale, growing eager to meet the brave hobbit so well spoken of.

Unfamiliar voices and lilting laughter played into Pippin's dreaming. Mildly irritated that he could not place these new sounds he awoke suddenly. Forgetful of where he was, he sat up looking in every direction recollecting where and why he was in a cave. His eyebrows stressed in concentration, trying to piece who the voices belonged, surely they were not his hobbit friends whom he is heart ached for. Pippin emerged to the day with a confused face gawking at the population of elves that suddenly sprung up over night. Sleepily he hobbled to Legolas who was speaking with an all too familiar elf. On second thought, he was certain most of these new elves he met at another place in time.

"Ah, sleep has worn out and you awake to a bright day." Legolas said smiling.

"Pippin," the familiar elf greeted. "it has been many a night since we diverged paths." But Pippin only smiled politely returning no recognizing glance. "You struggle to recollect, I see the confusion you brand on your face. 'Tis early yet, and you may not be fully awake to the sun." he smiled broadly. "My name is Gildor, escorts to Frodo Baggins and company to Woodhall for a night of merriment and much needed rest. We tended to you on your road to Crickhollow and Bree. Is your memory now awakened?"

"High Elves!" The excited hobbit leaped, "Yes, I remember all and especially your generous hospitality. What brings your travel this way?"

"I was summoned from Rivendell to search for this poor messenger." Gildor led his eyes to the wounded elf behind him. Pippin overlooked the captioned elf sitting against the tree when he wandered out. Several others attended to his comfort, the remaining meandered near perimeter on guard. Gildor continued, "Swiftly on horseback he rode to Rivendell to advise Lord Elrond of the blackness he discovered in Rohan and Isengard when a troll attack hindered his safe return."

The word troll singularly echoed like a falling cry. The tallest hobbits were barely breast high to men, and it is told next to trolls eye level rested on their kneecaps! Pippin shuddered but Legolas showed no sign of alarm.

"Legolas, your road to _Eregion_ will cross paths with these trolls." Counseled Gildor. Pippin then shouted his question for emphasis: "There were more than one? I've an answer: we will travel by day, trolls turn hard as stone in sunlight. We'll surely be safe from our foes then."

But Gildor shook his head and in lower voice he dealt more bad news, "The trolls are cross breeds of the Dark Power, _Olog-hai_, they are called, and the sun does not harm them. From the races of trolls, _Olog-hai_ are the most treacherous." 

Pippin turned to his partner, "Legolas, I beg you to find a safer route to Hollin! We are only two, actually, we are one plus a halfling!" He said desperately.

"You speak the truth plainly, but Legolas is gravely forced to take the one path. No other exists between you and your friends."

There was no alternate route and nothing more could be said, and so Legolas changed the subject. "Gildor, I can offer your injured _lembas_ in aid to his recovery. Though nothing more can we spare for the others. Our rations have settled down to the last of this way-bread." Legolas explained.

"Then we shall trade! _Lembas_ are sure to speed the heal of our fallen messenger and for it we offer you food, a plenty supply to carry you to Eregion and beyond it's limits." Gildor called to a raven-haired maiden and instructed her in their native tongue. She brought forth dried meats, winter fruits (including winterberries), crispy breads and two water skins filled richly with a potent, refreshing draught.

Pippin's mouth watered as he watched the beauty of a creature hand the stores to Legolas. A blush came to her cheeks as she drew closer to the handsome elf. Legolas smiled politely and attempted his best at _Quenya_ to thank her. Despite his incorrect intonations, she replied in her tongue, "To be caught in the gaze of the Mirkwood Kingdom's Prince is an abundance of gratitude." But Legolas could not piece together her sentence into his own language and Gildor bothered not to translate. The elf maiden broke her stare from Legolas and faced Pippin. She smiled and asked Gildor a question. Gildor replied, "He is not the bearer, but from the accounts of his battle with the wolves, he is a brave soul."

It was decided the day will be filled with rest, the cave and its clearing will be their home once more tonight. Pippin welcomed the delay as well as the wealth of food the traveling elves brought with them. The sun was setting and the valley drew dark again, but a fire was built to light the camp. Three elves always stood post, rotating watcher duty with rest to take in warm draughts and even warmer stews. Pippin even took a shift at guard, but that was before the cooking started. His nose, mind and stomach lingered on the smells of dinner heating, and before long he posted himself closer to the slow cooking foods. The flavored smells lost his concentration completely and again he was a worthless pair of eyes. Supper and speeches carried in to the evening as the stars peered from under the blanket of night. Surrounded by the merriest of elves, Pippin forgot all his troubles and wished his cares never to return. A handful of elves did not speak the in Common manner, but they were plenty to offer translation for the Sindarian Elf and the hobbit of the Shire. The party went on past the hour Pippin fell in to a deep sleep. He forced his eyes to keep open, but the weariness overcame him and songs the elves sang carried him into a dream. At the close of the festivity, Legolas swept Pippin into his arms, retreating to their cavern.

It was late the next morning when Legolas roused Pippin from sleep after an hour from waking himself. He had seen off their visitors and bid them a safe journey. Rolling on to his side, Pippin groaned, pulling the blanket over his head. An hour more of this Legolas endured, packing their wares then going back to try and awaken the log that Pippin had become. He poked and jabbed him until the hobbit sat up annoyed.

"Take you breakfast quickly and we'll begin for the day."

The sun rose out of the hills, its light steeped down the slopes but it was no warmer a day than winters day. A soft but chilly wind smothered any heat produced by the sun. They walked on for a very long time, well past a hobbit's suppertime. Pippin yearned to complain but knew right before he uttered a foul word that it wasn't warranted. Yesterday was a full day's rest and they had much to recover from the loss of time they incurred by not hiking a step, though the break was well deserved indeed. At last Legolas gave the call to stop for the night. Pippin threw down his pack and collapsed. He could fall asleep at that moment for all he cared. But Legolas waved some dried meats at Pippin knowing his stomach couldn't resist. Pippin gladly ate; he chewed with his eyes closed, wavering side to side as if his head was too heavy. He succumbed to the weight in his head before he finished his meal and fell back down on the ground. Taking the blanket from Pippin's pack, Legolas covered the tired hobbit and stuffed the pack underneath his head as a makeshift pillow. Pippin began to lightly snore and Legolas fell asleep soon after.


	8. Fear Not

These characters and places are not my own (except for Isilme), they belong to JRR Tolkien. 

A loud and painful growl in Pippin's stomach stirred him from sleep. There was no morning sun; it seemed there was one thickly spread cloud covering the entire sky. Wrapped in his blanket, Pippin stood up and looked for Legolas who had obviously gone off. 

Happily, he discovered the food stores were left behind and upon rummaging through their supply, Pippin discovered items he did not know were given to them, tomatoes, carrots, strips of bacon, mushrooms and a bottle of wine. Words could not impart the joy that filled his heart and rallied his stomach. Quickly, he searched and found the cooking gear, then kindled wood scraps to build a small fire. Recalling the magic that Sam would make by combining mix-matching ingredients, Pippin crushed the tomatoes in the pan, added mushrooms and a pour or two of wine, dashed with a bit of salt and spice. He let the sauce sweetly simmer, causing a great rumble in his stomach. He heaped the chopped tomato sauce on top of crisp bread discs, savored them, then washed it down with a cool draught, all the while dreaming of his dear friends. The tastes brought him back home to the Shire to their last hearty meal in Crickhollow with Merry, Fatty, Frodo and Sam. Stuffing themselves with ale, mushrooms and all their creature comforts, he remembered the story making and the uncovering of their conspiracy to runaway with Frodo, they weren't taking no for answer to go with him, especially not after all the planning so successfully executed. Would he still choose the same road now? "Nevermind that nonsense." He said to himself. But his heart ached immensely for his hobbit friends that he nearly burst in to tears.

Legolas silently stepped up to Pippin and startled him, though not meaning to. "Have you left any of your delicacy?" 

"I had a mind to eat it all. You left me to awake by my lonesome." Pippin wiped his eyes before turning to looking at Legolas. "Where did you leave to?"

At the very bottom of their food sack Legolas found what was left of their crispy breads. "I discovered the path we are to take leading to the trolls' lair." Everything stopped in Pippin's world; the wind halted as if it were trapped in a room when all the windows shut at once, the birds, it seemed, to die mid-chirp and all else was still.

Legolas went on, "My apprehension begged me to awake and I journeyed further down our intended road to find these creatures. It is three leagues, though by our speed we would reach them before nightfall. I do not wish to be seen by them-- "

"Nor I!" Pippin resounded.

"So it is agreed, we will begin later and arrive under the cover of darkness to sneak past their dim wits. Two there are, lying in the narrow ridge between the high road and the ravine floor. Little foliage grows there and the rocks are no bigger than your waist height to hide behind. As they take their slumber we shall climb above them on the steep valley wall they lean against. Now more than ever, you must maintain the sure-footedness and stealthy guise to go unobserved, as I've been told, by Bilbo Baggins, are natural hobbit attributes." With the end of that sentence he took the first bite of Pippin's creation and smiled in surprise, nodding his head in compliment to Pip's cooking.

Amid the slender trees Pippin spent the afternoon alone, practicing, with sword in hand, his parry and lunge against the low, naked branches. His mind pictured the tree-opponent as a drawved troll, jutting out a twig-like weapon in its defense. As Legolas instructed, he kept weight on his toes and slices short, choreographing the twisting and spinning moves Legolas executed when he killed the two wolves that attacked him simultaneously. The last spin turned him dizzy and he fell to the ground with a dense thump. Pippin looked up and Legolas seemed to have appeared instantly with a hand out to help him up.

"You are ready then?" Legolas asked with a smile he tried to hide.

Pippin took his hand then dusted himself off and picked up his sword, "How long have you been standing there?"

"Enough to see that you must never turn your back on your enemy. Your fighting skills must mature with practice before incorporating such techniques. You are on your way, Pippin, fear not. It is nigh that we go. Come along and get your things." Legolas turned and lead Pippin back to their camp. Pippin's pack was set, he had only to fold his blanket and stuff it in. Off they went, heading down the road to certain danger.

Dusk darkened the valley, dropping temperatures lower as the chilly wind began to pick up speed. Pippin tightened his hood. "I wish that Gildor would have come with us or some elf from his company." Legolas replied nothing. "I think the elven maiden who admired you would certainly have joined us if you only asked her." Pippin backhandedly teased, waiting for a misgiving glance confessing that Legolas fancied her too. 

Again, Legolas gave no word or sign. Forward he kept his eyes and feet. He spoke only to himself, inside the loneliness of his heart, "For me, there is only one."

When Pippin realized he was speaking to a sublime elf and not one of his jolly cohorts, he returned to the seriousness of their situation. "What happened to the messenger that Gildor was sent to retrieve? How did he survive an attack of two trolls?"

Legolas wished not to recount the gruesome details but Pippin begged at no end and so the elf conceded. "Isilme, the messenger," he began as they continued marching in the growing darkness, "rode in haste back to Rivendell and heeded no warnings of the trolls' smell or sound. He was hurried to report back so Elrond may council us further on our journey. The fine stallion he commanded leapt over the rough terrain, scoring a faster speed than any messenger the wind could carry. At the high road juncture, coming out of _Eregion_, he did not let up speed or take up caution. The trolls remained very still, like aged stone; each armed with a broken tree trunk, waiting for Isilme." Legolas turned back to see that Pippin was not too frightened. "As he passed, the first swing missed him, but the second tumbled his horse and his arrows scattered when he fell to the ground. With the fist of arrows that remained, he hailed the assailors, but they were unaffected by so few of them and onward they charged, swinging their tree-clubs. He ran to the way of the low road that dropped to the valley floor, he would be safe down its narrow passage, beyond the grasps of the thick-handed trolls. The ground shuddered violently when their tree-swing misses hit the ground, shaking down the messenger with each forward step he tried to make. He fell just short of his salvation, his hands grasped the edge of the road and he pulled himself over it. But one blow caught him and shattered the bone in Isilme's leg. On to his back he rolled with one arm dangling over the edge, looking up at the last strike that would flatten him whole. With what little strength he possessed, Isilme turned down the valley road and tumbled to his safety below. His horse witnessed the whole affair, but could risk crossing the trolls' road to retrieve his master, so he returned to Rivendell and told his tale to the elves that received him."

Each word further into Legolas' story stunned Pippin till at the very end of it he stood frozen in his tracks. Legolas walked several paces before realizing Pippin stayed behind. Lightly, he trotted back. Pippin was shivering, but it was not from the cold. Legolas lowered to meet his gaze and truthfully spoke. "Pippin, we have an advantage: we know where they lie, as Isilme did not. He wandered unknowingly into their lair and in full sun. You can see, as the light disappears, this valley is dark as midnight and we will only cross their path when we are certain they are lulled to sleep."

The more Pippin thought about it, they more he understood this was the only way and that he could not stay in this ravine forever. The elf stared assuredly into the eyes of his young partner as if he was saying more without moving his lips. Pippin heard him through the silence and nodded his head approvingly. Just then, they heard a growl of a voice and another answering. Legolas guided them up the same slope Isilme slid down to save himself and closer to the trolls' camp. Down low they crouched, barely hiding behind some rocks. The trolls did not sense them as they were busying themselves with supper. 

Legolas could barely be heard when he whispered, "They shall sleep heavy after their large meal. Our signal is their snoring and we will make for our crossing." 

Pippin hated to wait. 


	9. The Trolls

++Thank you to my regular readers (and a handful of new ones!) Your kind words have made me so proud of this story and they give the imagination to continue. I appreciate getting such reviews from fans of Tolkien who know the books so well and call my attention to its truism. And, finally, here are the trolls. Enjoy!++

These characters and places are not my own, they belong to JRR Tolkien. 

A couple hours stretched by like a long pouring of molasses in wintertime, Pippin could hardly bare it. Sleeping was of no use, he was too frightened to shut his eyes for any length of time, and he dared not utter a sound fearing to uncover any hint of their presence. It was Legolas who spied the trolls' happenings and detailed with soft words of the gruff conversations spoken in the Black Speech of Mordor. Though he did not understand their tongue, this displeased the elf all the more. However, trolls were dull, slow and terrible conversationalists, incapable of small talk. Pippin imagined the unrecognized grumblings between the two were debates of simple matters like the correct height of the fire, fairly divvying up the meal or whose turn it was to sleep on the lumpy side of hill. What they lacked in intelligence was given to them ten-fold in size, strength and ferocity. They wasted such talents even between each other by pushing or roaring loudly as they did, adding to the discomfort of their visitors waiting solely for the right time to make their pass.

In the cold temperatures worrier's sweat began to roll down the locks of Pippin's hair, down to his face and neck. His mind and heart raced at the anticipation, nothing else entered his thoughts. Legolas whispered in a soft yet harsh tone, "A fever is sure to come over you. Dry your face and pull the hood of your cloak tighter." Pippin did as he was told, but his nervous worry continued. 

After dining on the catch of deer from earlier in the day, the trolls settled leaning against the either side of the cliff face, shifting their bodies to find that right, cozy position. Back and forth they carried their angry prattle and empty threats of bludgeoning and clobbering. Soon the talk dribbled to a mutter, then to a lazy roll off the tongue as they breathed in and out. Their breath grew louder as their heads dropped and closed their eyes. The _time_ has now come.

The elf waited several moments till he was confident the two trolls were indeed in a deep slumber. There was a pale moon light behind them, shining on the path they were to take. He said to Pippin, "Above on our left is a narrowed ridge, barely wider than the length of your foot. We will traverse this path by holding the dead shrubbery anchored deep within the mountain, making small and silent steps." 

They stood up, quickly made for the mountainside and soundlessly climbed its surface to the ridge Legolas described. The troll was twenty feet away and then another ten feet to the point of dismount to get back on to their rode. The elf would be the first and the trembling hobbit followed very closely. Inches they crept, careful not to roll any loose dirt over and down the side of the mountain. It seemed like hours to get to where they now stood, only five feet or so to what Legolas kept referring to as the danger zone. The snores echoed in the valley and rumbled in the hobbit's ears, he found it hard to concentrate though he remained focused and ever quiet of his movements. If he could guess, they were walking twenty feet above the ravine floor, but Pippin forgot his fear of heights, there were larger fears concerning him, the beasts measured, when standing, over fifteen feet!

A shifted murmur came from the far troll leaning on the other side. Legolas carefully eyed him; disturbance resulted from his dreaming and did not interrupt his sleep. With a confident nod, Legolas assured Pippin to press on. Closer to the troll they had come, almost directly above his bobbing head. The moonlight gave no clear indication what color these trolls were. Pippin's guess they were a dark cloudy gray and their skin surface was like an aging potato, rough, speckled with random divots. They were bald all a top except for the straggling, thin lines of hair that hung from the base of the heads ending at the shoulders. Minding his concentration, he called his eyes upward and forward, trying to clear his thoughts of the dangers below, both of height and beast. 

Then something unexpected occurred. Trolls are widely known to be stupid creatures, incapable of calculating thought, and so Legolas regarded them dim-witted. Giving a small ear to Gildor's council of the _Olog-hai_ strain of trolls (as these were) and unaware of their full history, the elf expected all trolls were alike except for a few major differences. He was mindful that the _Olog-hai_ strain was the work of the Dark Lord, immune to sunlight and filled with a greater evil. Southern Mirkwood housed several of the _Olog-hai_, but the armies kept them bay of their cities to the north. What he did not realize was that this breed had a slightly higher capacity for thought. During supper, the Dark trolls conversed of the strangers lurking, waiting to cross to the other side, waiting for them to sleep. And now, it seemed, they were sleeping. But they indeed were watching, with barely an eye open, the two travelers tiptoe their way to the valley wall, painstaking tiny steps to the heart of the troll lair. 

The far troll widely opened his eyes and saw them in full view, just an arm's length from his grasp. The silence in the valley broke when the troll leaned forward and moved all dirt, stone and leaves about him. Legolas called out to Pippin to climb fast to the top of the mountain as he jumped from the narrow edge to the near troll's head. Balancing as the troll awoke and began to move, Legolas pulled an arrow, aimed it and shot straight through left eye of the spying troll opposite him. Again the elf jumped, down to the ground and ran to the blinded enemy while preparing for another shot. 

Now fully awake and alert to the injury of his comrade, the other troll bellowed in his Black Speech and burst forward his hand for the elf. Pippin grabbed and hurled as many stones at the troll below to steer his attention from Legolas. Bothered by pebbles of rock, the troll turned to see Pippin clinging to the roots on the valley face. By the cloak he held the tiny hobbit in his massive fingers and brought the specimen closer for a look-see. Face to face it was between he and Pippin when a small blade swished and deeply pinned the troll square on his nose. In a fury the troll dropped one hand and brought up the other to comfort his wound. Pippin fell to the floor with a thud. 

There was no time to lie flat on your back in the midst of this disproportional battle, so on his heels Pippin flung, and he readied his sword that was stained with the troll's blackened blood. For a quick moment he watched the elf scale the downed troll, desperate to yank the arrow out of his eye. The white blade, free from it's sheath again, was plunged into the other working eye and excruciating cries overflowed the valley walls and through distant lands. Flailing heavy hands waved, knocking Legolas off balance but he jumped in time and tumbled to safety.

Pippin caught his breath and came back to his own body. The troll behind him was now angry more than hurt. He fixed on the hobbit while he groped for his tree-club. At once Pippin shrank, drawing a long breath. The troll rose, towering above him and moved in closer. But the monster shot backwards, taking an arrow to his throat. Before Pippin turned to thank the elf, Legolas retreated to the troll he was masterfully taking down.

"No use is it to stay at the level where a troll could smash everything about!" Pippin said aloud and readied for the mountain to climb. He hurried as the troll began to recover from the shot. Focused on their victory, he imagine his plan over and over, to reach the narrow edge height of mountain, leap on to the troll and attack with his sword straight into the eyes. The troll got to his feet again while Pippin moved faster to where he intended to jump off. Finally, at the destination Pippin turned around ready to set the plan in to motion. However, the troll was no longer interested in him, but now eager to assist his kin who was failing and fading fast. Pippin pitched stones, yet nothing availed and the troll leaned in the opposite direction widening the gap between them. 

Hilting his sword with a stabbing grip, Pippin summoned all his courage with a fierce cry and from a standstill, leapt with all his might to he troll walking away from him. He landed on nothing, dangling only by the sword lodged to the back of the troll's neck. A blood-curling cry emerged from the beast as he fanned his arms about behind his head. In a matter of quick flowing motions, Pippin grabbed a handful of the stringy hair and yielded his weight from it, pulled out his blade and ran up to the height of the troll. From its summit, he could see Legolas' final blow, letting out the other trolls' last breath. Heaved in his own breath, Legolas called his attention to the other, where he saw his young friend looking down on him from the top of the second enemy. The quiver stayed unarmed. Another arrow would jolt the large tower of a creature and shake-off the hobbit.

"Times a-wasting!" Pippin said to himself, ducking under the hand that tried to boot him off. The little hands and feet could be felt on the troll's massive face, and he rattled his head from side to side. To hang on, Pippin punctured his blade through the forehead and another painful scream was let out. Teetering to stay on his feet, the troll wavered. Covering his face as if to mask the pain, the beast fell backwards against the mountain. From his nose, Pippin slid off and hit the ground. He ached from all the falling, but now, all was settled. The trolls were slain and the valley was quiet again. 

Pippin lifted his face from the dirt and caught the gleam of his sword reflecting moonlight, still secure on the monster's brow. Up and over the troll's body he ran to recover it when suddenly he was face to large opened, living eyes. Air moved about the beast's nose and lips and he roared though he could not move his body. Pippin roared back and jabbed his full sword into the large eye, withdrew its length and ran back down. In the back of his mind, he heard an echo instructing him to finish and gash the heart. Pippin stopped on top of the chest and held the blade high over his head, brought it down with amazing force to pierce the black heart and commit the enemy to certain death.

At the start of the high road, past the troll's lair of the valley's end, elf and hobbit met. Together they trotted towards Hollin, quick to move and stunned in silence. Weariness soon overcame them both, but they forged on past midnight, taking strides as far away from the evil they conquered. Pippin's legs were giving way, his eyes shut and he fell to the road. Legolas knew they could not go on long, if even a single step, but he was compelled to find a clearing where they could rest in safety. The elf took off his pack and hoisted Pippin over his shoulder, dragging the belongings behind him. He turned off the road into the wood with barely the strength and breath to continue.


	10. Next Morning

These characters and places are not my own, they belong to JRR Tolkien.

Legolas placed Pippin on a bed of flattened evergreen brush, careful in laying down the hobbit's weary head. Kneeling, he nearly stumbled as he tried to bring himself up. His head was a daze and weighed heavy to bare on his shoulders. Rolling to his side, head on the ground and an arm around Pippin, his body shut down and his eyes stared into a restless dream.

***

Heat poured from the sun, its light shone brightly onto Pippin's closed eyelids. The thin sheet of skin that covered his eyes could not block the brightness, commanding him to a squint and soon he awoke. The elf's arm was about him and he thought that very strange. Shifting from under Legolas' arm (he figured it was for some kind of protection, from what he could not be sure) Pippin took ease not wanting to wake the elf if he was not ready to. As he sat up and looked to what surrounded him, the memory of the great beasts returned, as did their journey in the dark. He remembered tasting dirt when he collapsed to the road just before passing out. From where they sat, the road was hidden but Pippin preferred to let the elf awake and guide them rather than uncover it's whereabouts on his own.

A far cry, "Pippin! Pippin!" in the welcoming voice of Merry floated over a distance, but his eyes did not see his friend so he could not believe his ears. Louder the calls came, but no visual sign of the beloved hobbit was anywhere to be seen. The sun cast a bright golden radiance, quite unusual for this season, though he paid no mind to it as he was outside his homeland, and everything different in these strange parts was queer. Merry could be heard again, but this time as clear as bells tolling on a summer day.

"Pippin! There you are!" He said. It sounded like Merry was behind him. To Pippin's surprise, there Merry stood, as real as flesh, rosy-cheeked and gleaming a smile.

"Oh glory!" Pippin exclaimed as he and Merry jumped and danced, singing a tune of discovery. "My eyes feel as if they would jump out of their sockets, it is so wonderful to see you."

"Let's not dawdle, they are waiting for our return, and as they wait, our breakfast grows cold." Merry hurried, pushing Pippin along.

Suddenly remembering, Pippin stopped and turned around, "We can't leave Legolas." He said in a chuckle. "We have so many stories to tell and they must be spun together so as not leave out any important details. You won't believe our adventures, Merry. I've been quite brave. More brave than normal, of course."

Merry grabbed Pippin by the shoulders and turned him opposite again. "I have never seen the elf so peaceful, let him rest a tad longer and the ranger can fetch him. I confess, I want you all to myself!" Merry was practically running, pulling Pippin's arm behind him. Over his shoulder, Pippin peered back. They had run several yards and he could see Legolas emerge from his repose and look out towards them running away.

"We're almost there. I could smell the warmth of breakfast and taste it on my tongue!" Merry said running, recapturing Pippin's attention. Just ahead was a home carved into a hill, not far from where they left the elf standing. Merry pushed open the round door as if he owned the property and urged Pippin to take a seat at the table. Inside the house under the hill, the bright sun did not penetrate except through the well-positioned windows casting light where it was needed and not into the eyes of guests. The temperature was cooler and Pippin almost felt like home.

"Who owns such a…." Pippin trailed off as he turned to Merry who sat opposite him across from the laden table of favored breakfast foods. 

"Don't just gawk, you ninny. You'd best start eating before I beat you to it all." Merry encouraged.

"Where are our hosts?" Pippin asked searching about. He thought it odd that Merry made himself so welcome as stranger.

"They are a welcoming, kindly, old couple." Merry answered as if reading his mind. "At the break of dawn, some hours now, they burst with excitement to prepare this feast. There is a farm out back and more chores to do out front. Spies from the wind alerted your presence to them and in turn, they woke us up and reported where to find you." Merry explained as he scooped a load of peppered scrambled eggs onto Pippin's plate.

"Us? Where is the rest of _us_?" Pippin wondered and then in a silent afterthought, 'How did you arrive here?'

Merry answered and served, this time cubed potatoes fried to a golden crisp. "Just Aragorn, really. We came looking for you after those terrible shrieks heard last night. I could not sleep a wink upon hearing them and followed Aragorn as he set out to find the origins of those cries." He explained to Pippin's satisfaction. "So, tell me of your new found bravery! And don't you stop until you have it all out or you run out of air." Merry placed the plate in front of the hobbit across from him and gestured him to begin eating.

Between bites Pippin divulged all details of his story, from his fall down into the ravine to the strange waking of this morning. He chewed and spoke, chewed again, drank and then both hobbits laughed together. Manners were of no concern when in a room it was just he and Merry. Breakfast was incredibly tasty to eat and he grew eager to tell his stories that he was obliged to do one and the other all at once. Pippin spoke highly of the elf, discounting the "sleeping" oddities and the ill remark made of Bill, he focused rather on his praises of Legolas' bravery and agile fighting techniques, emphasizing how much he gained by example. Merry laughed at the tiff made over Bill's mention; he gasped at Pippin's miscarried attempt with the elf bow but then applauded and hollered when the wolf battle ended in conquering victory. A long time it had been since Pippin performed in front of such a lively audience, he almost forgot the energy a charged listener gave off when exciting stories were told.

Time passed quickly, though Pippin and Merry did not feel it as such. Pippin continued feasting as Merry urged more from him, the tales of their adventurous journey. The Shire dreams were coming true and Pippin could not feel more content than he did at this moment. Frodo's _One Ring_ had no significance to him any longer. Being safe, warm and fed were a top priority and he relished the comfort he had gone without. 

A sudden burst came through the door interrupting their merry making. "Legolas!" Merry cried, brightening his eyes and flashing his jolly smile, though Pippin did not share in the same reaction. Pippin beheld the elf standing with a bloody sword in hand and a heart brandish with fire, its flames reflecting in his eyes. It was clear Merry and Pippin were not looking at the same elf, but Merry persisted in his jovial host role. "Join us, fair elf! I have enjoyed the tall, conjured tales of my lad, Pippin, though from your lips I hope to hear the truth." Merry grinned playfully at Pippin.

Legolas glanced at Pippin, his confusion and distress dragged over his face, trying to make sense of what appeared to be madness. Merry stood up and advanced pleasantly towards Legolas but was stopped by the long blade Legolas bore. A round swing moved from left to right, hewing the head of Merry Brandybuck. The headless body fell to the side and the loose head rolled to Pippin's foot, looking up at him with bright eyes and smiling gaily. A mad cry followed, bellowing out of Pippin's lungs. Jerked back at the terrorizing sight, he covered his mouth and gleaned at Merry's killer. He stumbled to distance himself from the slain and its slayer and backed up to a wall screaming and shriveling at the notion he is next to fall victim to the crazed elf's raving antics. 

++Sorry for cutting it short (tee hee, no pun intended). The next installment is halfway done. It originally was part of this chapter, but it was already getting too long. 

Oh, by the way, there's only two or three chapters left in this story and then I'll have to put it to bed. 

Thanks again for reading!++


	11. Next Morning II

These characters and places are not my own, they belong to JRR Tolkien.

The same shot of shining radiance fell on Legolas' face on the morning following the trolls' defeat. Pippin's murmuring urged him to waken but as he came to, he realized Pippin was not there. He arose and saw the hobbit sprinting away. Legolas called out and it seemed Pippin heard as he turned back around to face the elf, but then he continued to run. Lifting his foot to start after him, Aragorn slapped him on the shoulder. Startled and a bit confused, Legolas glared at Aragorn in silent disbelief.

"You did not hear me saunter? Alas, the war with the trolls edged some keeness from you." Aragorn said with a smile. Legolas continued to glare and replied nothing. Magically, without sound or sight, Aragorn appeared. Both the greatest of the elf's greatest gifts, regardless of the talents of Rangers seemed foiled, and this caused a great distress in the elf. 

Sensing Legolas' disorder, Aragorn began to explain, "In the midst of the cold night, I heard terrible cries. They roused our Company and we could not sit only to wait for you. Merry, the brave soul, followed me into the darkness to search you out. We came this way through moonlight and made friends at the cottage yonder." He moved his sight over the distance to the welcoming home set in stone, sprouting a working fireplace. "An elderly couple took us in, despite our badgering questions, that we hoped would lead to any sign of our lost companions."

A crinkle tightened the elf's eyebrows, harder and deeper he thought, commanding the exit of haze clouding his head. Then Aragorn said something that shed a clearer light on the matter, "Have you taken food or drink since your battle? Even the most ardent elves suffer when nutrition is lacked. Come, we will accompany our friends who have embraced us." Aragorn walked ahead intending the elf to follow.

"Tell me," Legolas said as he followed behind Aragorn, "where are the others?" He wondered if the Company of Seven reached _Eregion_ after a fortnight of their departure.

"They rest waiting where you bid us to reunite, or have you lost memory of that, too?" Aragorn made light of Legolas' condition. "It has nearly been two weeks that we separated and at long last we will hear of your mighty journey and the tale of the two trolls."

"My heart rejoices to see you, but you must forgive my deficit in speech. I feel my head lagging to respond to this reunion." Not to mention the scratchy dryness in his throat.

"Once you fill with food and drink, all will be well again." Aragorn smilingly assured. "Are you weary with other troubles?" Aragorn asked, aware of Legolas' displacement.

"It escapes me why Pippin should run away. Before we collapsed into sleep, I meant to tell him I felt an eerie presence, murmuring in many soft voices." Legolas recalled little from last night on the road. However, instantly he remembered the morning before when he took the road winding to the trolls' lair without word to Pippin of his leave. Upon his return the hobbit out rightly let his bitterness be known.

"You are safe now and again our Company equals nine." The Ranger solidly patted Legolas, extending the security to no longer worry. "Have you been quarreling amongst each other? Perhaps he is getting even." Offered Aragorn.

Legolas concentrated on this thought of Pippin mal-reciprocating. Not a solitary 'thank you' ever emerged from the hobbit. Legolas certainly earned it. Surely he would be dead by the first night if not for Legolas' skill and strategy. The elf now opinioned that hobbits were an ungrateful and disgusting race, headed by the immature mop-top called Peregrin Took. And, add thievery to the list! All was dawning on him now on this bright day; he finally saw Pippin's mischief that no longer could be trusted. His memory carried him to the night of the wolves, when he offered the _lembas_ to Pippin. Little notice was taken then, but now he realized there was one less of the sweet golden cakes stored for safe keeping in his velvet bag. Obviously, not safe from the grasping paws of hungry hobbits! Though his insides were boiling his played careful not to let his expressions surface. 

"The misconduct is minor, Legolas. Pippin is in his adolescent in hobbit-years, he knows little of right and wrong." Aragorn counseled.

The crinkle in the elf's eyebrows returned, but Aragorn was facing ahead of him and did not catch Legolas' expression. All traces of thought cleared from the elf's mind and he blurted loudly so Aragorn was sure to hear, "_Lastao! Pedon nin meleth an Arwen!_" But Aragorn's carried on and paid no mind to him. The echo of his declaration rang over his mind as he thought of white space and again repeated aloud, "_Lastao! Pedon nin meleth an Arwen!_" 

But once again, nothing came from Aragorn. The wise elf pushed out all thoughts and emotions. Swiftly, in a fluid motion, he lunged for his dear friend, freeing the sword that hilted from the Ranger's waist. Legolas faced Aragorn squarely with the borrowed blade, but Aragorn remained still, lifting the corners of his mouth. The Ranger's palms shielded himself and in a kindly tone he spoke to Legolas, "The comforts of warmth and food and drink lay before us. You are weary, you are tired and I have come to find you and relieve your toils. Return my sword to me, dear friend." He offered his hand out. 

In exchange, Aragorn felt the blade on his skin as it severed his head from his neck. Before the body dropped, Legolas was off to the house in the hill.

It is this time when Pippin witnessed the death of his beloved Merry and trembled for his own life. Not a demonstration of despair or guilt came from the sword-wielding elf; he seemed satisfied of his crime. Thoughtfully, he looked upon the hobbit, certainly this was tragic indeed, and he moved to Pippin baring a sorrowful regard over his brow. Pippin shuddered. Legolas minded the blade still in his grasp and cast it to the floor.

"You are not in your right mind!" Pippin burst into tears, overcome with a maddening fright.

"It is not clear to you because your mind sleeps though you feel you are awake." Legolas said sternly. "Cast under a spell of the witching gnomes we are and serve as slaves to their pleasing." 

This evil race Pippin barely recalled from songs told at fireside, used to scare hobbit children from gallivanting too far and long into places unknown. As the tales goes, wearied travelers caught in to a deep slumber fell easy victims for witching gnomes who preyed on minds kept unguarded. With your own dreams they devoured you. Pleasantly you sleep, for hours and days, while you slowly succumb to starvation and their will.

The once inviting house took on the feel of a death trap. The warm painted walls and sun-filled windows melted away and exposed the dank rock underneath them. All elements of the house faded: food, furniture and all, leaving hobbit and elf in the pitch of dark. 

With a gasp and covered in perspiration, Pippin sat up wakening from the awful, awful nightmare. He recovered consciousness inside a cave. Gnarled roots of large trees tangled above, the space was no bigger than he stood high. A soft light flickered from three lanterns placed on the dirt floor, moving the shadow of the elf behind him.

"We were enveloped in imagery, Pippin." Legolas knelt before this frightened hobbit, speaking in a calming tone. "Our reality is in this deep cave underground, we laid sleeping while the gnomes secured over us and impersonated our dreams. Though how long we're been under, I cannot tell. Strong are their powers to read minds as well as their skill to expel all knowledge from you, gathering your inner thoughts and using them to keep you content, unaware of your prolonged suffering. Your cousin, Merry, is alive and well, as far as my wakened mind can tell. His likeness that I beheaded lies here." Over his shoulder he pointed and turned to reveal a headless gnome. Pippin gulped at the lifeless body. In the shadow, there lay another gnome corpse flat on his back.

"There is another slain." Pippin said blankly then looked to Legolas again. "Who did he play act in your imaginings?"

Legolas answered, "Aragorn son of Arathorn." He sank down and commenced in the telling of his dream. 

The recount was awful as the images played on the hobbits' mind. He could not escape the gruesome images of Merry's and Aragorn's death, though imposters indeed they were. Pippin felt his queasy stomach churn as the elf completed. After a thoughtful and selfish moment he shouted defensively, "Wait now, I never stole any _lembas_!" 

Legolas went further to explain, "My thoughts were an open book and I conjured those 'thoughts' to lure a trap. No truth lies behind my rantings. They were a folly mind game, merely a test for my theory." The elf caught on to the likeness of Aragorn's ulterior motive and quickly deduced they were bewitched by gnomes. 

All became clearer to Pippin now, the events in the house were discord, nothing added up to reason. How did he not see it at the time? So eager was Merry to feed Pippin and draw the tales from him, it came back to him now that Merry didn't eat a single bite or share any tales of his own, both contradictory behaviors for Merry and hobbits alike. "When you wiped your mind clean of all thoughts the gnome had no answers for you. He did not understand what you were saying for Elvish is not a language widely known to gnomes!" Pippin exclaimed brilliantly. Legolas nodded in agreement. "I wonder, what was it that you said to Aragorn in your tongue?"

"I harkened him to listen, for I spoke of my love for Arwen."

"You…"

"Nay, 'twas another trap." Legolas replied shaking his head, "I trust Aragorn's response to be quite different than to plainly ignore my words." He said bending his lips to a half smile. 

"My heart was taken by the hands of another." Pippin looked intrigued. But Legolas deflected the question before it was asked, "Her name will never pass through my lips till the end of my days. But no more talk of our prior tragedies. Our chief concern is to free ourselves of this doorless prison." 

++Thanks for your patience in waiting for this chapter and I hope y'all aren't too upset at me. Otherwise, you can blame it on my witching gnome. Also, I disclaim my attempt at Sindar, so please keep your flames on low.++


	12. Escape

These characters and places are not my own, they belong to JRR Tolkien.

The large oak played deaf to Legolas' cries for help. His strong hands rustled the large roots but they diminished little to his strength, stubborn and loyal to the long-standing command of the gnomes. It is the constitution of Wood-Elves to endure and prevail, though Legolas' could not see the answer to their escape, it would come to him, no doubt, but perhaps not ere the young hobbit's starving breath. 

Rapid breathing escaped from Pippin's lips, imparting restless groaning and jolts of sudden screams. His little legs sporadically jerked, running from an unknown shadow that he could not unfled. Lacking the mental resistance to the witching gnomes' spells, in and out of vivid dreaming Pippin slipped. Hours crept slowly and the elf wearied to stir him each time he fell under, but the last painful cry beseeched Legolas to impede. Crawling to the niche Pippin cradled himself within, Legolas called in a stern elven voice, demanding yet lyrical, "Awake from the demons set to hunt you." The immune elf pitied him and the cure lied only to wait for the spell to thin.

Now alert, eyes open to the nightmare of their reality, the hobbit shrunk from the grotesque roots twisting overhead, as if they were ready to uncoil and wrap their earthy tentacles around him. A pang churned from inside his stomach and he shifted to meet the concerned look of his fellow prisoner. 

"Legolas, I'm dreadfully hungry." Pippin said in a whine, rubbing the parts of him that ached. Indeed, he now knew true hunger, a sensation never experienced by a hobbit whose given birth right was well fed appetite. But Pippin needn't speak a reminder; the rumbling emanating from the hobbit's stomach were a deafening thunder in Legolas' ears. All their belongings, food, water, weapons, blankets, they were beyond reach somewhere above ground. 

Lack of water and nutrition slowed the Legolas' thought process, he struggled to focus his attention towards an escape route and often he found himself in half sleep, eyes fixed on the hobbit left in his care. Weaving in and out of dream-state, the hobbit figure altered shapes resembling images from the archer's past. One instant the curly brown hobbit locks dripped, straightening as it lengthened, catching the rays of sun mysteriously entering the dream and bathing the hair into a flowing golden river. Topping the cascade of the gorgeous mane was a crown of fall berries baring proudly over the face of his father, the elven king. His eyes were stern yet sorrowful, disappointment bored over the dreamer's heart as he was called back to the day he reported the deaths of two elven soldiers and the loss of the prisoner trusted to the mighty caves of Mirkwood. 

Shaking the memory from his mind into a blur, another familiar shape haunted him. Another golden haired image this time of an elven lady, crowned with a ring of orange and golden leaves, fitted in a glowing white garment with breezes that whisped through the gentle folds in her sleeves. "_Nanaeth, naneth!_" He pleasantly muttered. His beloved mother, eternally blessed with an encouraging smile for her son that never faltered in bringing him peace. The archer felt an arrow of regret pierce through his heart, the pain was overwhelming and he missed her more than his feelings could express in the greatest of elven songs. There was a bright flash that rattled his sleep. In the elven queen's hand was a woody stem from a beech. She brought the piece to her lips and gazed intently upon her son, she mouthed words he could not hear or decipher. Another flash and she was gone. 

He ran to find her among the crowd of bushy-leafed trees, pushing them aside, making his way through and calling her though he made no sound. Ending the path he trotted lead him to an elven maiden, distraught and crying, bowing her head as she sat against the great beech tree. Waves in her raven hair tumbled gracefully down her back and over her shoulders, neatly puddling the grass she sat upon. The image of himself in the dream dared not make a sound, but the loud hollow beating of his heart was not easily ignored and the maiden realized she was not alone. Her sobbing brown eyes met his aching stare, and the bruised heart of the warrior sank deeper into depths of a familiar sadness. His eyes welled tears both in image and reality. Another ache wretched his heart, pulling it down, weighting it heavy. There were no words to exchange; his love for her could not endure them both as she declared no longer any love for him. A curse to love another without a reciprocate in return can wither away an elf's immortal life. Many autumn moons were to pass before Legolas emerged from his hiding and took his normal place again among fellow friends and family. That day in woods, the day she left Mirkwood, he never wanted to relive and forcibly cast out her image and her name from his long record of memory. That is, until this moment, when duress heaved the demons he suppressed silently under the layer of mental anguish contrasting his will to live the life of a great archer and warrior. And the warrior indeed won out.

Pippin, awake now a couple hours keeping watch of their headless captors, was surprised of the elf's stream of tears. A sight leaving him dumbfounded, with no answer to either rouse Legolas or provide him comfort in some small way. He opted instead to let him be and never speak of it. 

Two more hours slipped them closer to starving. The tears dried on Legolas' face. Unaware the tears were real, he awoke surprisingly renewed and spoke no word of the stories told in his restless sleep. 

"We are closer now to leaving this direful prison. An idea has just discovered me!" Legolas sprung forward to the gnome lying closest to him. Upon searching the pockets of the headless figure the elf discovered a small knife. Then took the blade to a root twisting under the earth, a small, but principal coil. He murmured through the exposed tree root, nearly placing his lips to the life giving knots and closed his eyes. The wise, old spirit awakened, finally free from the gnomes' enchantment, stretching and creaking in a great, well deserved yawn, lengthening the deep roots in a slow unsprawling, then quickly recoiling to the original shape. It finished with brief shiver. Thankful to for the elf's magical words, he took Legolas' bidding and the oak filled the elf with scenes of the world upside. It appeared to him they were in the middle of a natural orchard of oaks, but no beast or bird lived in this part of the forest for years now. In a harmonious tone Legolas begged to be free. Sensing the white oak's apparent reluctance, he laid an oath to stay their hands away from his kindred trees, to which this was agreed. As an elf who spoke the words of trees the oak rest assured of Legolas' honor.

A giant thunder rumbled above them as the roots plucked out of the ground and rose high into the free air. The pale cloudy light blinded the prisoners, but joyous nonetheless they were of the hurt in their eyes to see the sun once again. It was Legolas who first hoisted himself on the brambly roots to climb out of the subterranean dwelling. He reached for Pippin who jumped to clasp his forearm and then pulled the eager hobbit out.

"I think I shall prefer this glorious light for days and for nights without end than to go another hour in a sunless world!" Exclaimed Pippin thankfully rubbing his eyes. A shaft of light burst down through a break in the clouds, welcoming the Company of Two. "Ahh…" Pippin reveled in it's glow and opened his eyes to it's glory.

To the white oak Legolas praised and pressed his lips upon it's bark as the roots settled down into the cavity they made their home. Pippin knew no tree words and settled to show his appreciation by wrapping his arms around what he could of the oak's girth and smile lovingly.

"Come along, Mister Peregrin, we have a long journey back to the road."

"How do you know where we've been left?"

"The disturbance of the dirt where he have been dragged is the guide we shall take. It has been at least two days and the path the gnomes took hides itself well under the weather. Fresh air and sunlight renew us. We must carry on as long as our feet can hold up our bodies. No fire can be burned, no brush or kin of our wise oak can be handled in any way as is our keeping in return for his aid." 

Before the sun set into the far horizon, they came across a stream of water trickling south, curving from the west. The gentle waters were icy, but the wasted travelers would have cared to drink boiling water if the stream were made of it. While their hands and lips numbed at the water's touch, their mouths gladly drank. The temperature fell down their throats and flowed evenly through each parched living cell. They rested for an hour, drinking till they had their fill and began to retrace the path they unknowingly left behind as sleeping prisoners. 

A very distant length they were dragged indeed from the clearing they rested ere their nightmares began. There was no moon above but even in the blackest pitch of night, Legolas' eyes were sharp and the nameless path was clear to him like starlight against a dark sky. Pippin stumbled both from fatigue and blindness. One hand was lain on Legolas' elven coat and the other wagged, lifeless and asleep, begging the rest of the hobbit to do the same. His insides and outsides shivered beneath his cloak, but he was too tired to notice he was also freezing. 

"Can't we stop for the night? My feet are failing me." Whined Pippin with his eyes closed, barely able to prop up his head.

Before Legolas negated the request, he considered it slightly then ultimately agreed. More progress will be gained in the morning after acquiring much needed rest. Pippin lied down immediately and shriveled up into a warm position. Around the hobbit Legolas huddled distributing heat needed for Pippin to last through the freezing temperatures in the night.

The break of dawn cast a spear of light on Legolas and he rose out of slumber. He let Pippin lie while he inspected the path further down the bend. There for nearly two hours, as the sun climbed higher in the sky occasionally finding it's way through the gray clouds, Pippin relaxed alone. The dream of Merry's voice returned to him and in a frightening reaction, he scuttled to his feet.

"Oh, my blessed hobbit, I have found you at last!" Merry ran to him from the rise in the path ahead.

Pippin pinched himself and grimaced, but he was not yet sure if Merry was a dream. No sign of Legolas was left, his doubt plagued him and a worrisome fright lay on his brow. He shrank from Merry's touch as he neared. But Merry only laughed, "Has it been too long that you've forgotten your dear cousin? I am aching to hear your news! Tell me everything and start from the beginning."

"The beginning?" Pippin asked in mistrust. "Do you mean from when we fell from gathering those wretched winterberries?"

"Heavens, I'm glad you reminded me." Merry said digging into his pocket to uncover a drawstring pouch that he offered. "This is yours."

Hesitantly, Pippin took it and released the contents of the bag on to his hand. To his shock, out poured a handful of winterberries. "These must be over two weeks old yet they appear freshly picked!" Pippin barked an accusing tone.

Again, Merry amused by the starving hobbit, guffawed loudly, "The fall knocked all sense from you, it did. Don't be a ninny! I gathered new berries as they expired, waiting long for our meeting so their sweetness may be returned to you." He ended again with a chuckle.

Pippin came forward and reached within his cousin's cloak, wrapping his hands around the hilt on his waist. Pushing Merry to the ground, the sword became unsheathed while the stunned hobbit backed away from the violent glint in Pippin's eyes. "I know your game. By the swipe of this sword you will fail to win me over a second time." 

Merry ceased his laughter as he looked down the blade his own sword. The dawning of his death was rising bid by the trusting hands of his dear lad, Pippin. "Return to your senses! What has overcome your heart that would betray your mind that I am the enemy?" Merry shouted in distress.

"Your fool tricks are no match for me!" Pippin burst forward.

In the distance the voice of Legolas was faintly heard from the second rise in the dell, "Pippin! Lay down your sword!" He ran swiftly aware the spell Pippin cast upon himself would drive him to enact it's cure with swift beheading justice. But Pippin ignored the command and drew back his slice. Merry winced and silently said his farewells.

The strong arrow struck the moving blade and releasing it from Pippin's will. The footsteps of Legolas and Aragorn neared to the scene. Pippin, overwhelmed in shock, could not believe his eyes and he wondered how to take on all three of them to ensure his survival. With is hand out, he reached for the sword that fell from his hand. A weathered boot stomp on the blade and the crazed eyes met level with Aragorn's.

"They are real, Pippin. They are real." Legolas said. "Here, look here." Legolas showed off his bow and handled the hobbit's lost pack. "Our belongings have been returned by our friends."

But Pippin shook his head in disbelief. The command to clear his mind weakened to the involuntary pulse of reverse psychology and he thought of every emotion he bared. He then cursed himself for having insignificant strength, and helf his head in his hands. A blackness shut down on the young hobbit. His eyes rolled back in to his head, wanting to see no more of dream cousins or real rangers. The tired mind of Pippin was spent, exhausted and put out. Heaviness consumed him and he faltered backward falling into Aragorn's arms. There was no explanation given to Merry or Aragorn, who rested Pippin in his arms beneath his cloak. No words were uttered as they hiked to the camp to rejoin the others.

++I almost ended it at "Merry winced and silently said his farewells", but some of you would have come after MY head. 

My thanks again to the regular readers and to those who have newly discovered this little shindig. As I stated before (this is more fair warning) there is one more chapter left and then "the end".++


	13. The Long Awaited Reunion

These characters and places are not my own, they belong to JRR Tolkien.

A small fire burned warming a pan of sizzling bacon. The smoked odor infused the sliced mushrooms and onions crowding along side the meaty strips, constantly pushed and stirred with the head of a wooden spoon. The bacon, on the verge of crisping but before the edges browned, he sliced into smaller bits and continued to fold the mixture cooking it through. Taking a small swig while no one looked he proceeded to share a poured tablespoon of wine into the concoction. A dash of salt and then pepper to taste (he enjoyed that part) then some dried green herbs of a name he could not remember tossed in. Off the flames went the pan to rest on the cold ground ceasing the heat altogether, minimizing the chances of overcooking. He stirred again then "tap-tap" pan side with the spoon. A filled pot of water replaced the spot on the fire.

Behind him lay a satchel and inside were choices of a wheat bread loaf, more onions, the last of the mushrooms and the secret mixture of herbs. He fashioned a plate for himself. A dollop of the thickened mixture and two elongated bread slices. The hard bread soaked in the flavoring juices and with the dry ends of the bread he grabbed to bring the food to his mouth. His eyes closed to savor the taste and lastly, he awarded himself a congratulatory nod. The water, now boiling, was ready for the addition of a mulling sack tight with spiced tealeaves, healing herbs and finely chopped dried fruits, which he plopped in.

Before long, half of what he prepared disappeared with only himself to blame, aside from the tea elixir not yet ready. Nonchalantly, he peeked over his shoulder to make sure no one spied him, then lurched for the second plate saved for another. Dried meats and fruits remained among their wares, certainly no one would go hungry now that the foods stores and all the company were reunited, the other plate of food would not be missed.

The sleeping figure rolled over and sniffed in the lingering aroma facing the cook. Just as Legolas picked up the plate to finish for himself, he was caught red-handed as Pippin awoke. "Here," said the elf, handing the plate to Pippin as if he meant to all along, "I made this for you."

Deeply touched and extremely hungry, as he always is, Pippin gladly accepted and sat up quickly then swayed as the blood rushed from his head. Before falling back to lying position, he sneezed several times, hacked a dreadful cough and sniffed miserably. The raucous Pippin made through his nose and throat was clearer than a whistling kettle recapturing Legolas' attention to the readied tea. He immediately poured some into a mug and offered it to his companion. "Your hands can warm around this vessel and as you take it in it will heal from the inside out. However, the drink just came off he boil, tarry a few moments before you sip." 

In the meantime, Pippin gobbled his dinner and paid his satisfied compliments to the chef. After finishing his business of eating, Pippin became suddenly aware that it was just he and the elf camped here. Puzzled, he blurted, "Was it all make believe? You convinced me so that Aragorn and Merry were real." Pippin's head threw back and forth in a violent sneeze. "To shift between real and not real and not know which is which will drive me mad." He used his sleeve to rub his nose. 

"Take in your draught, it will bring you comfort, though none more than what I have to tell." Legolas reminded him paying little mind to the lack of the hobbit's manners. "Firstly, abandon your cause for madness. Make it clear in your working mind that your imagination was well at rest and what you last remembered was authentic reality." Pippin drank down the tea as prescribed, within several swallows in fact, finishing all at once. The effects of the medicine alleviated his hoarse throat and subsided his growing ache. 

Closer to the fire the hobbit moved, next to his savior and only constant in reality in this enchanted journey. With his blanket he wrapped himself and sat mimicking Legolas' pose, holding his knees to his chest. Contently he smiled at the elf and drummed his feet feeling the medicine flow through his blood stream, reaching down to his toes. Legolas silently giggled at the sight. Then he started, "I required that only I be present to see you awake for fear you might launch another attack."

"My poor Merry." Pippin interrupted, though Legolas seemed not to mind the intrusion. "He must be awfully frightened of me. Has he said anything that would make you think so?" 

"I said only to Merry that you have been withdrawn from food and water and plagued with nightmares. A disquieted nod was his reply. From this I read he cried out for _your_ safety not his." Legolas answered. "I proposed you and I camp farther from all else till you were properly nourished. Here is where I bought you." He motioned with his hands to signify their camp.

"Did you tell them about the wolves and the trolls?"

"Nay." Legolas shook his head. "Though it was hard to resist their plea. Distraught of my answer they settled for my reason, that the tale was ours in the sharing and the telling. We can return to them now that you have eaten and began remedy for your throat." Before Legolas finished his sentence Pippin jumped up and rejoiced. Legolas laughed heartily at the sight. 

"My dear elf lord! My ears deceive me." Pippin rattled his finger in his ear and squinted at the possibility his ears were indeed failing. "Elves are known to laugh and though I've seen you smile, this is the first I've heard such a joyous noise leap from you. I thought you were a strange elf-breed incapable of laughter."

Legolas chuckled at the remark. "There are relatively few things in my long years to bring cause for celebration." He said getting up. 

To which Pippin dismissed with a wave of his hand, "Out of practice you are is what I say. What happened that would--" 

It was now the elf's turned to suspend the conversation. He held up is hand, "Hold your questions, I wish not to answer them." Said he gently but with a stern undertone. Emphasizing his disfavor on the whole subject matter and secretly wishing to exchange the laugh, he turned his back on the hobbit and gathered their belongings. There was great efficiency in Legolas' packing abilities. Neatly, (not to mention, quickly) did all the cookware, food and extra blankets fit in the bundle taken from Bill's burden matching the time Pippin spent standing up to mount his pack onto his shoulders. 

The Company of Two was no more. Their feet began the steps to join the union they separated from just weeks before. Still cloaked in his woolen blanket he shuffled behind the elf, too worn to make the wide strides to keep up. "Wait." he said halting. Worried and anxious, Legolas turned about face, a look of distress recessed his eyes. In a sincere tone Pippin said, "Before the notion leaves me again, let me say this, thank you… for everything." Opening his arms he stretched out his blanket and it appeared as if he donned a royal robe across his shoulders. Elegantly, he bowed low before the elf. The sentiment gripped the ever-proud warrior and he bobbed his chin slightly and humbly smiled back at Pippin. Forward he faced again, walking the narrow path in return to their Company. He made sure Pippin could not see him swallow down the knot forming in his throat. 

***

The waning dusk greeted them at the last layer of trees before the main camp. A glowing campfire could now be seen and the voices rang clearer in Pippin's ears as he walked closer and closer. In front of Legolas Pippin stepped to gain a better view if he could see one. The figures, though not as clear, were easy to identify even past the evergreen branches. His ears picked up the gleeful sounds of pleasant laughter. A deep roll emerged from Gimli, as he placed both hands on his stomach while lightly bouncing to the rhythm of his laugh. Boromir's was like a heckle; his mouth broadly smiled, cracked open slightly through which the joyous sound escaped. Then there was Gandalf, a laugh Pippin was more familiar than the previous two. Muffled yet still effective was the wizard's chortle as it passed through his bearded lips. Aragorn's he could not hear. Everyone was in hysterics and Pippin could not conceive a single soul resisted being included. Even if the jestings were not in everyone's taste the sound of all who were laughing was very much inspiring. He deduced that the often serious ranger snickered underneath a mild simper. 

It was the sweet voices and laughter of his darling hobbits he reserved to cherish last. They spoke no doubt of a Shire hobbit's tale, possibly concerning their lot of hobbits, as Sam, Frodo and Merry switched voices in telling the story. The three storytellers hee-hawed and chuckled in the same manner save only in varied pitches. A baritone laugh was produced by Sam and Merry's and Frodo's was slightly higher, more of a tenor. Pippin's alto voice was soon to join in to complete the chorus. 

Suddenly there came a hush. Merry quieted them with a "Shush," and lowered his palms in command to lower their volume. All was still. Ducking under the obstructive branches, he tried to peer through them and cautiously moved to the figures closing in on them.

Pippin stood still, not knowing what to expect. 

A loud shout bellowed from Merry, "It's Pippin and Legolas! They have returned to us!" Uproarious cheers soon followed. Merry ran to his long lost cousin but instinctively stopped short of him. He eyed the hobbit carefully and took a hard gulp. The fair elf was now in view and Merry threw him a glance that meant 'is he sane?' Legolas tossed back, 'he's fine, proceed.' 

"Merry," Pippin squeaked, "It's me, Pippin."

Merry smiled broadly, picked up speed again and playfully tackled Pippin to the ground. Laughing with tears in his eyes Pippin could not hold back the barrage of coughs from the dryness in his throat. Legolas pulled Merry off of Pippin. "He's not well enough for all your usual antics." He then picked up the downed hobbit. "Our poor Pippin has a cold. It will do him better to take ease." 

Merry quickly apologized then hurriedly grabbed Pippin and ran him to the campfire. There were many pats and hugs and smiles passed round as Pippin and Legolas reentered the Nine Walkers' camp. None so were more joyous than Frodo and Merry to see their cousin in fine health, minus the cold, of course. Into their arms they took him, eyes wet with tears and they blessed the elf profusely for his safe return. Still many questions needed answering and barely a chance was given to the lone travelers to remove their gear and sit before they were bombarded with demands to know more.

It was from Pippin's accounts they mostly heard. Legolas occasionally corrected his timelines and from time to time cut his exaggerations in half. The elf also shared the portion of his dreams that lead to their escape from the gnomes' underground tomb. He didn't mention it was his mother, but a spirit who showed him to speak into the core of the wood and the mighty oak was sure to abide. Aside from this and the initial meeting with Gildor and his troupe, Legolas left the stories to Pippin for telling. He watched the hobbit captivate the audience and through the re-living of all their events, came a feeling of endearment between them. Together they exchanged personal glances and laughed together in the same story places. As expected, the victory over the wolves and the trolls was most exciting. Had it not been for Legolas' reinforcing head nods and verbal cues, "It's true," no one would have believed Pippin's tale spinning. The 'wolves' especially was a prize, for it begged an encore to which Pippin favorably obliged. The second round Legolas displayed his wound left by Pippin's misaim though hardly a scratch was now left. 

The night ended with applause and more reassuring pats on shoulders. All bid a good night as each member claimed a mark on the ground with their own bedding. Legolas wanted first to be on watch. Before taking post he knelt beside Pippin and shared a few quiet words. They both smiled and Pippin soon dozed off.

***

"There is much history here in _Eregion_, much of an evil kind. I do not like to speak of it." The voice of Aragorn came from behind the elf. Legolas' turn at guard was about to be relieved.

"And I do not like to hear of it." Legolas responded in a muted playfulness.

Aragorn changed the subject. "I am at peace now that you and Pippin are returned and safe. As much peace one can expect considering the numerous dangers before us yet. The both of you can pen enough peril to your record for the lot of us." The two of them smiled then chuckled lightly. "He was lucky to have you," said Aragorn returning to a serious mode. Legolas looked out silently, continuing his watch. Again in an austere fashion Aragorn spoke, "Forgive me for what I will say though I think only good may come of its mention." Legolas turned over his shoulder and nodded his consent. "This pairing healed you as well. At times on your journey, Pippin reminded you of Nebrethel and you risked all to protect him."

The tears long kept hidden were burning yet Legolas commanded them at bay. He replied to Aragorn, emotion absent from his voice, "My failure ended his life. My brother's breath would still be drawn if I…"

"If what, Legolas, tell me. If you could possess the wizardry to exist in two places at once?"

"There is a consuming emptiness in my heart for him." Legolas said dryly.

"Give yourself leave of this guilt. It is not yours to bare and not your father's to deal unto you." A gentle hand squeezed the elf's curve between his shoulder and neck. "Take your rest now of which you have most deserved." 

Legolas turned to walk away only until he wholly suppressed his urge to burst into tears. In a quiet spot, removed from Gimli's and Sam's snoring (they were voted to sleep far from the others' company due their nighttime rumbling) Legolas perched himself near Pippin. As he lay on his side, watching the hobbit's restful breaths, the clear image of the elf's brother came to him. Aragorn's counsel was on the mark. Securing Pippin's return was another chance to save **_him_**. The happy reunion relieved the persistent onus of his brother's death he placed upon himself, though it was hardly a cure. And in the silence after the cheers and hooray's had gone to bed, the hurtful blame nested again on his heart.

Onto to his other side he rolled, facing now Aragorn's back, earnestly watching and smoking from his pipe. Pippin's stories of their many dealings gave Legolas comfort and he replayed them again to steer the dark thoughts away. As he trailed the recount of their journey it was the Pippinisms that brought a silent chuckle. The self-pity tantrum, careful details of Took and Brandybuck relations (a very dull topic indeed) and the "Bill the pony" outburst, complete with huffing and puffing and the folding of arms. It demanded all the muscles of Legolas' fair elven face to keep from laughing aloud at the latter thought. A snicker escaped but he horribly passed it off as a cough. Should anyone have heard it, an elf cough would raise many an eyebrow, as elves did not sicken easily. But no one paid the noise any thought. To avoid slipping another sound Legolas clamped his lips and tried to think of something far more serious. 

As he gained the peace to sleep the hours left in the night, he thought how remarkable a tiny hobbit could be. Many years Legolas associated only among elves. He learned elven traits and costumes and far excelled all others in the art of combat and survival, lessons best taught and perfected by elves alone. However, in the smallest creature of Middle Earth rested the largest burden. His role now seemed at this moment insignificant, contributing to a larger frame so hard to conceive. Had events happened in his life that would bring him to exactly this moment? Again, he could not gather the bigger picture to see it though it contained the rally of Men, Wizards, Dwarves, Hobbits and Elves. Occasionally there was inter-specie meddling but in even smaller in numbers were his dealings with hobbits and least of all dwarves (between a dwarf, he was certain a friendship would never begin). Thoughts of Pippin were still about him. This time of his courageous spirit a face the greatest dangers, beating the odds and slaying foes. Even still there is much to prove, as their mission is nearly impossible to complete. Incapable were the wisest of all races to foretell the outcome of their journey, so tonight he decided not to attempt guessing at it himself. He imagined, and was fairly certain, Pippin would fall into trouble again and the archer, determined and committed, accepted also that he could not rest all the hobbit's well being on his account. The elf grew faithful in Pippin in these last weeks, and his abilities were sure to flourish throughout their quest. One could not discount Pippin's natural ability to survive at all costs should the call arrive, and Legolas desperately wished matters would not come to a dangerous turn in need of such measures. Before sleep settled on him, he shifted to see Pippin again and whispered, "I can bestow no power to protect you shall we ever part company and I am no seer of the future. No fair warnings can I give, no further advice can I offer to promise that you will endure through it all. If your fate wills it, you, dear Pippin, are destined to accomplish great and mighty things." With that last thought, he drifted in to a dream.

The End

++Thank you, thank you, thank you. I appreciate all of your kind reviews and honest feedback. You were all a driving force in my inspiration. I do have more up my sleeve in store, so no worries, I won't be gone for long. Next will be a hobbit fiction then I have laid down some notes for a Legolas set of chapters (you can see, I have a left a lot to work with here for our favorite elf).

I want to share some awesome stories from authors on these pages. I hope you will enjoy them, they each have great style and leave you wanting more (the sign of a great LOTR fiction author. Enjoy some of my favorites (I'm in search for more [plan to read Ithilien's recommendation Leaf and Branch by JastaElf!]): The Heir by GoldenWolf, Life is What Happens by brachan90, Torn Between Two Worlds by Ithilien and Oboebyrd's Guide to Writing Formulaic FanFiction by Oboebyrd.

Again, many thanks.++


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